Reign: A Romance Anthology

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Reign: A Romance Anthology Page 8

by Nina Levine


  He shrugged, then winced like he’d forgotten he’d had the shit beat out of him. “It’s done now, but I owe the boss.”

  “How much do you owe?” I was afraid to ask, but I had to know how hot the water was here. When he didn’t answer right away, I pressed, “Hawk, I swear to fucking God if you don’t tell me—”

  “Fifty grand.” He stared at me, begging me to understand even though I had no idea what the particulars were this time around. My brother had always been the kind of kid to bet over his head. Most times, his bluffs worked, and he walked away with more cash in his pocket than he’d had in the previous months. I always thought his luck would run out eventually, though.

  It turned out this was that time.

  Jacking up onto my feet, I cut a tight line in front of him, grinding my molars as I tried to think about how I could secure fifty grand for him. There was no way I wouldn’t help bail him out, but the how was a fucking mystery. I barely scraped together enough for the rent on my shop and apartment on a weekly basis. My savings account was in the negative the last time I looked.

  “When do you have to have it by?”

  “I was given a week.”

  A week to find fifty grand? I’d already refinanced the shop, so Lord knew the banks weren’t going to help me out. I glared at him, hands on my hips, and I adopted the true ticked-off-bigger-sister position.

  Who the fuck had he done a deal with? I waved my hands in front of me, silencing my already silent conversation. No, I didn’t want to know details.

  Hawk’s business was his business—until he made it my business.

  Motherfucker.

  “Who did you steal from?”

  “Bane Rivera.” At my questioning look, he added, “He owns that gentleman’s club, The Dollhouse, over in West Hollywood.”

  I had heard of The Dollhouse, I’d also heard about the reputation of its owner. Bane Rivera had been voted most eligible bachelor three years running. I was not ashamed to say that I’d picked up those copies of the magazines and stared at him, taking in his dark hair, dark eyes, and scruffy jaw. He looked like pure sex on the pages, but a man like that didn’t rise to the top without getting his hands dirty somewhere along the way.

  “Well, I’ll just go down there and talk to him.”

  Stupid. Stupid idea, but I was grasping at straws so hard here.

  “You can’t do that,” my brother said weakly.

  I huffed and lowered myself back to the floor in front of the couch. “You lost the right to tell me what to do when you barged in here, bloody and broken, and owing the richest man in California fifty grand.” I opened the gauze pack and Bactine and began to clean Hawk’s injuries. As I sponged the blood away from his face, I realized the wounds were mostly superficial. The bruising would be a bitch, though.

  By the time I was done, Hawk was asleep—although fitfully—on my couch. I laid a light blanket over him, then dumped the used medical supplies into the trash in the kitchen. It was edging up to two o’clock in the morning, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep—not with the news of my brother’s troubles on my mind.

  Marching into my bedroom, I got changed into some jean shorts and threw on a tank top. I didn’t bother with a bra given that I didn’t intend to stay at The Dollhouse all that long. Going to see Rivera might be the worst decision I’d ever made, but it was also the only one I could make. After this, though, I swore my brother was on his own.

  Sliding my bare feet into my Vans, I grabbed my car keys from the hook by the door and shut the apartment quietly behind me. Traffic was light as I drove to West Hollywood. Even in the dark, I could see the wealth and affluence of the people who lived here. We hadn’t always been poor. At one stage, my dad had had a thriving printing business, but then he began to gamble. It was only small bets here and there to start with, but as soon as my mom died, he upped the stakes and spiraled into a pit that he had no hope of climbing out of. He died penniless, leaving Hawk and me to scrape and scramble our way through this life. Neither of us had gone to college. Neither of us had wanted to. We’d grown up quick, and survival was the name of the game.

  The game had left Hawk bitter and stupid.

  It left me cautious yet independent, stubborn, and fucking unwilling to be taken advantage of.

  “Holy shit,” I muttered when I pulled up to the curb outside The Dollhouse. The entire building was at least three stories high, the red-brick industrial exterior making it look like it belonged somewhere down by the docks. There were no windows, no tacky neon signs—no signs at all. It was like it was just known as the premier gentlemen’s club in LA by sheer will alone.

  As I parked the car and shut off the engine, I had a brief moment of hesitation.

  What the fuck was I doing here?

  What did I hope to achieve?

  Well, whatever it was going to achieve, I had no choice. Hawk had made sure of that.

  Getting out of my car, I pulled down the legs of my shorts that had ridden up a little, shut the door, and locked the car. As I cast a glance at my early-model Toyota, I doubted anyone would try to boost it, but I also couldn’t afford to replace it. I walked up to the bouncer at the door, who stared at me like I was the wrong kind of person to walk in here.

  “Dolls enter through the back,” he told me.

  “Dolls? What? No, I’m here to talk to Bane Rivera.”

  His eyes found mine again. “Dolls enter through the back.” His tone was sharp, and I bobbed my head because maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought it was. I ducked down a driveaway running beside the building, coming to a large steel door. The words STAFF ONLY were scrawled across it in block letters. Raising my fist, I knocked.

  It opened with a buzz, and I stepped into what looked like a very long hallway. There were half a dozen doors on either side, but they were all unmarked. The low buzz of people talking and the seductive beat of throbbing music and drinks being poured filtered through from the door to my left, so I opened it and stepped into a room of black, gold, and dark red. A shiver tracked over me as I was hypnotized by the low-lighting, the music, the women dancing in their eight-inch pleasers on raised platforms. This place was pure sex.

  Walking over to the bar, I caught a lingerie-clad woman’s attention and called her over.

  “What can I get you, sweetheart?” she asked in a sexy drawl.

  I almost ordered a drink, but then I remembered why I was here. “I need to speak to Bane Rivera.”

  The bartender jerked her chin up at a wall of glass hovering over the bar. “He’s in his office,” she said in a completely normal voice.

  Well, clearly, I did not deserve the sex-kitten routine. Glancing around, I tried to find my way up there.

  “Take the door tucked away around the end of the bar,” the same bartender said.

  I nodded in thanks, finding the door and opening it. Butterflies turned into an all-out assault on my stomach, so I pressed my hand to the space just below my navel. I was nervous as fuck, but I had to do this. When I reached the six-foot by five-foot landing at the top of the stairs, I stared at the door and blew out a breath.

  Fuck. It was now or never.

  I knocked and prayed I could get my brother out of this.

  3

  Bane

  I looked up from my work when there was a knock on the door. It was almost three in the morning, and I wondered who it would be. “Enter,” I said, returning my eyes to my desk.

  I looked up again once the door had closed, taking in the blonde-haired beauty who had just stumbled into my office. Her blue eyes widened a little when she saw me, but her gaze didn’t drop.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I barked. And how the fuck had she gotten in here? Where the fuck was Dagger? Turning my head, I saw him down in the club, chatting to one of the waitresses. Fuck.

  “Who are you?” I asked again when the woman remained silent.

  Tilting her chin up in defiance, she glared at me. “My name is Wren Monta
na,” she said, her voice strong. “I believe you know my brother, Hawk.”

  “Hawk Montana,” I replied with a sneer. “The bastard who thought he could steal from me.”

  She bobbed her head. “I’m not here to condone what he’s done, but I am here to ask you if there was some other way he could get that money to you. Fifty grand is not an easy sum to find.”

  “It would be if he hadn’t stolen it from me in the first place.” I settled back farther in my chair, molding into the soft, supple leather. “Did he ask you to come here?”

  “No.”

  “So, what… you thought you’d just try your luck and ask me to let his indiscretion go?”

  For the first time since she came in here, she ducked her eyes. “Yes.”

  I let my gaze travel down her body. She was dressed in a thin tank top that showed off a set of breasts I wouldn’t have minded titty-fucking. Her waist was narrow, her hips flared. Her legs, though? Fuck me, I wanted them wrapped around my waist. Her little Daisy Dukes showcased them perfectly.

  Standing, I rearranged my erection and stalked toward her. She tipped her chin up in defiance as I did, and I got a little harder.

  Circling her, I ran the tip of my finger down her arm, then around to her back. When it inched onto her ass, she spun around to slap me, but I caught her hand before it could land. Our faces were mere inches apart, and I could smell the scent of her shampoo. Fire erupted in those blue eyes of hers.

  “I’m not one of your whores,” she hissed. “So don’t touch me without my permission.”

  I let her wrist go and stepped away. She had fire. I liked fire. My dick especially liked fire. “Well, Little Bird, now I know what you’re made of.”

  “Fuck you,” she snarled.

  I laughed darkly. “Oh, I intend to at some point.” I didn’t date. I had no time to date. I barely got time to fuck women I wanted to fuck given that my time was split between the club and my drug operation.

  But Wren Montana—I wanted to fuck her.

  I wanted to see how deep that fire went.

  I wanted to see if she would let me break her, then beg me for more.

  “What do you want, Little Bird?” I asked, liking the way my new nickname sounded each time I said it.

  “I want you to forget about the money my brother owes you.”

  I shook my head and perched on the edge of my walnut desk. Skimming my fingers along the edge, I thought about what Wren would look like bent over it, her knuckles clenched white as she held on tight while I fucked her raw. Her eyes darted down to my hips, then back up again, and I smirked. “I can’t forget what he owes me. Nobody steals from me, and nobody can escape the punishment either.”

  All of a sudden, tears welled in her crystal-clear eyes, and my heart fucking lurched in my chest. I didn’t suffer blubbering emotional women. Even if one of my Dolls comes to me with a tear-worthy issue, I took care of their problem expeditiously but left all the emotional shit kicked the curb. Tears on Wren, though—fuck, I was in trouble.

  “Please. He doesn’t have the money. I don’t even have the money—”

  I held my hand up for her to stop. “He asked you for help?”

  “He’s my baby brother. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”

  Man, that was so fucked up. It was the man’s duty to look after his sister, not the other way around. Locking down my emotions, I said to her, “He has a week to get me my fifty thousand.”

  “And what happens if he doesn’t?” The steel was back in her voice even though tears sat silver and voluminous in her eyes. “What then, huh? Will you beat him again or worse?”

  “Or worse,” I replied darkly, without a touch of remorse. “Nobody steals from me. Nobody gets to think they’ve pulled one over on me. Nobody survives this breach of trust.”

  Roughly, she swiped the tears from her eyes and straightened her shoulders. Fuck, she even thrust her chest out a little, drawing my attention to her breasts. The air-conditioner kicked in then, sweeping the room with a gust of arctic air and causing her nipples to pebble. No fucking bra. I fucking liked this woman.

  “You’re a goddamn mobster.” She hurled the words at me like they were daggers instead of syllables.

  Pushing up off the desk, I got to within an inch of her body, her breasts almost brushing against my pecs. “You’re fucking right. I am. Now, get that fine ass of yours out of here, Little Bird, before I bend you over my knee and spank that defiance out of you.”

  I braced for the slap. I was not prepared for the lust that surfaced in her gaze. So she liked it rough, did she? I filed that little nugget of information away for later because I knew there would be a later. Any woman who could stand up to me, defy me like that, was a woman I wanted to get to know.

  She retreated on shaking legs, throwing one last filthy glare over her shoulder at me just before she shut the door. I ran a hand through my hair and blew out a breath. Turning to the window, I watched as Wren walked toward the entrance to the club. Her head was held high, her walk confident.

  Fuck, I wanted to break her.

  Behind me, the office door opened. “Who was that, boss?” Dagger asked. “A new Doll?”

  I rounded on the guy, barely containing the anger I had at him for not being at the door to stop her from coming in. But then I thought about it. If he’d stopped her, I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting her. So instead of chewing the bastard out, I smiled at him. “She was Hawk Montana’s big sister.”

  Dagger’s expression didn’t change. It hardly did. The only emotions I’d ever seen on his face before were blank and blank. There wasn’t a damn thing I could tell him to do that he wouldn’t see through.

  “What did she want?”

  “She wanted me to forget about the fifty thousand he owes.”

  “In exchange for what?”

  “Nothing. She came in here with no fucking bargaining chip at all.” Which either meant she was incredibly smart or incredibly stupid. Stupidity didn’t seem to fit Wren. There was calculation in her eyes, an old knowledge that understood how this world worked. “I want you to find out what you can about her.”

  “You got it.” He glanced at his watch. “Closing time soon.”

  I did the same time check. So it was. Three o’clock rolls around quickly.

  “Get that information. I want to pay her a visit tomorrow.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Dagger left, and I returned to my desk. I would see my Little Bird again, and I would take what I wanted from her without any complaint.

  4

  Wren

  I nudged Hawk with my foot. He groaned and rolled away, giving me his back.

  “Wake the fuck up, Hawk,” I snarled. I was running on only about four hours of sleep, thanks to his barging into my apartment beaten and bloody. Then, there was my visit to Bane. The man who was even sexier in person.

  Before I got sucked into those thoughts, I walked into the kitchen to get some coffee. I made enough for both of us, taking the cup into the living room. Hawk had gotten himself vertical, which was a good start.

  “Drink this,” I told him, shoving the coffee under his nose.

  He grabbed the cup with both hands and took a shallow sip. He looked at me over the rim. “What am I going to do, Wren?”

  “Fucked if I know,” I replied, running a hand through my hair, shoving it out of my face. I watched his expression crumple. “What did you do with the money?”

  His eyes darted away from my face, his tell showing me everything I needed to know. “You lifted it, didn’t you? You fucking idiot.” I stood up to pace. “Did you think he wouldn’t notice?”

  “Snake never did,” he replied in a petulant tone.

  Ah, so here it was. This had worked in the past with another dealer, so Hawk figured why wouldn’t it work again?

  “Snake is a drug-addled junky peddling cut-to-shit heroin. Like he gives a fuck about making green. All he’s interested in is making sure he has his own
supply taken care of.”

  Hawk rested his elbows on his knees. “I know it was stupid, Wren. I know I fucked up. But there has to be a way, right? You can ask the bank for a loan? Use the shop as collateral?”

  I turned to stare at him. What the fuck was he thinking? “My business is on the verge of collapse, Hawk. How in the hell do you think I’m supposed to get that kind of cash?” I was glad I was holding the coffee in my hand because if I didn’t, I was going to punch him in the fucking face.

  “Fuck.”

  “You’re not fucking wrong, Hawk. Jesus!” I stalked back and forth for a little longer, trying to get all my jumbled thoughts into some sort of order. What were we going to do? Bane Rivera didn’t look like the kind of man who would simply let my brother off with a slap on the wrist. More like a bullet in the head. There had to be a way to get him to back off, to extend the timeline. I paused in my pacing and took a sip of my coffee.

  What if I offered to pay him off in installments? It would be tight, but I could afford a couple of hundred a month. At that rate, though, I would be paying Rivera off for nearly thirty years. That was if the guy went for the idea. I didn’t hold out much hope.

  “Argh, I can’t even fucking look at you right now, Hawk.” Taking my coffee cup with me, I stalked into my bedroom and slammed the door. I couldn’t afford to focus any more of my energy on this. I still had to go into the shop and earn money. I had to pretend that things were okay, that my brother hadn’t messed up in the biggest way possible.

  Draining the last of my cup, I placed it on my dresser, then pulled on a pair of black leggings and a hot pink polo shirt with my business name and logo on the breast. I’d opened Bubbly Paws a couple of years ago hoping to cash in on the craze of people treating their dogs more like humans than most humans would. It turned out my hunch had been right, but about a year ago, another dog grooming salon had opened, and, for some reason, I was slowly losing my patronage to them.

 

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