by Nicole York
Robert threw his head back and laughed. Then he looked down and swept a hand up and down the length of her, gesturing at her outfit. “Yeah, Keesha. It sure looks like you’re doing a bang-up job.”
She looked down at herself and immediately wished she had a shawl to cover up with. She never dreamed her brother would see her so scantily clad. “Get out.”
Marcus crossed his thick arms over his chest. “You heard the lady. Get out.”
Keesha flinched. That wasn’t going to help.
Robert turned to Marcus. For a moment, Keesha thought things might get physical. She could feel the fury rippling off her brother.
Robert opened his mouth to speak, but two guards, Vance and Cole, appeared at Marcus’s side. Marcus nodded and they moved forward. Robert held his arms over his head and refused to let them touch him. He brushed past Keesha, who stood in stony humiliated silence as Marcus’s gaze slid and rested upon her.
“I’m so sorry,” Keesha breathed. “What did he want?”
Marcus regarded her coolly. “He wanted me to give you a different position here.”
“Oh.” The word sounded lame in her own ears but she couldn’t think of anything to say.
How incredibly embarrassing.
“I had no idea he was coming inside,” Keesha said. “Please, Marcus. You have to believe me.”
Marcus studied her with an expression she couldn’t read. “Watch yourself, Queen. You’re getting to be more trouble than you’re worth.”
9
Marcus
Marcus woke on Tuesday morning to the scent of cotton candy. He opened his eyes and stared up at his bedroom ceiling for a moment to get his bearings.
The naked girl lying half on top of him was who he was smelling. Her blonde hair was tangled and splayed out across his chest and her hand hung limp over the side of the bed. The fair skin of her shoulders and chest were covered in shimmering pink glitter, and he suspected that was where the sweet scent was coming from. She was a guest at Kadia last night, and after a couple run-ins with Marcus near the bar and on the second floor, he’d decided she would do for a quick fuck and some stress release.
Shit was getting tenser by the day.
She took deep, steady breaths, and he could feel the warmth of her breath on his rib cage.
Another naked girl lay with her back to him half tangled up in his blankets. A third slept on the far side, her arm draped over the hip of the girl between them.
It had been a wild evening to say the least.
Two of the girls arrived at Kadia together. They’d spent their entire night on the dance floor accepting drinks from men who hoped to take them home, but they clearly had their eyes on another prize, the infamous owner of the club himself.
Marcus was aware of how many women had heard rumors of him, most likely started in Kadia’s washrooms or VIP line ups. He didn’t mind. The women spoke of his sexual prowess and massive cock and the men talked about his strength and ruthlessness.
There were worse things strangers could be saying about him in the dark corners of Kadia.
Like how he was a killer. A criminal. A slave to the underground life.
He supposed those rumors wouldn’t keep them away. People flocked to Kadia for more than just the sex and the drugs. They wanted a taste of what it was like to live on the edge for a night.
Like the girls in his bed.
The cell phone on Marcus’s nightstand started ringing.
He groaned and rolled over, practically crushing the pink-glitter cotton-candy girl beside him. She let out a soft squeak as she woke up and shimmied to the edge of the bed as he lifted the phone into his ear and grunted, “What?”
The other girls stirred awake at the sound of his voice. One, a beautiful black woman with her hair buzzed short, propped herself up on her elbows and shot him a dark look for waking her up. Her neon green eye makeup was just as pristine this morning as it had been last night.
That was saying something. He hadn’t taken it easy on any of them.
Cole’s voice filled the line. “Meet me at the parking lot two blocks up from Kadia. With the Viagra advertisement board.”
Marcus ran a hand down his face. The stubble on his jaw tickled his palm and he made a mental note to shave later. “Viagra board? You need a little pep in your step, champ?”
“Can you be there in half an hour or not?”
“Forty-five minutes.”
“Fine. But move your ass. I don’t have much time today and this is important.”
“You’d better have good news.”
Cole hung up the phone and Marcus growled. His new bodyguard was going to have to learn some respect. He’d been at Kadia long enough to know he didn’t get to call the shots in or out of work. Sure, Dimitri had agreed to let him spearhead this job with Marcus, but that did not mean in any way that the men were on the same level.
Cole was still a rookie in this life.
Marcus had over a decade and a half of this shit under his belt.
“Time to go,” Marcus said, slapping the cotton candy girl’s thigh and leaving his hand there to give her flesh a squeeze. Her thigh was covered in a massive tattoo. A compass and a raven were done in swirling dark shades and surrounded in a pattern Marcus didn’t recognize. It was a nice piece.
She slumped against him and pushed her ass into his groin. “Don’t you have a little more time?” Her voice was as sweet as her body spray. “You can’t treat us girls the way you did last night and then kick us out. We want more.”
The black girl, Rahzia—or at least that was the name she’d given him—swung her legs over the side of the bed. All she wore was a pair of white panties. Her long legs rippled with muscle as she walked over to the chair in the corner of the room where her clothes waited for her. She picked up her black leather skirt and blouse and began getting dressed.
Marcus watched.
Rahzia caught his eye as she tucked her neon blouse into her skirt. “Thanks for the fun,” she said.
He’d like to have her in his bed again. She was a wild ride. Bold, too. She’d outshone the other two women without even trying and they knew it.
The third woman, a fake-tanned brunette with massive, heavy tits, finally woke up. She wiped at her eyes and smudged her mascara all over the place. “Are we leaving?”
“Yep.” Marcus rolled out of the bed and grabbed a pair of jeans. “All of you. Out.”
The brunette didn’t need to be told twice, either. She stood up, and Rahzia, the friend she’d gone to the club with, tossed her dress to her. All three women got dressed and collected their tiny clutches from all around the room and made sure they had their phones.
Marcus walked them to the front door of his apartment and opened it for them. All three of them stepped into the hall. Rahzia started walking toward the elevator, already on her phone to order a ride.
The blonde paused in the doorway. “Call me?”
Marcus smirked. “Sweetheart, you don’t want more of me in your life. Trust me.”
“But I—”
Marcus closed the door on her face.
Silly bitch. She had no idea who she was messing with. She should consider herself lucky for sharing his bed for a night before being cut loose. A girl like her had no place with a man like Marcus and he knew it. She’d drown in the stress and the blood in a matter of days.
Rahzia on the other hand?
Well, if he hadn’t been beaten, bruised, and bloody by Kate and was still recovering, he might have considered getting her number. She’d have been a pleasant distraction from Keesha at least.
Keesha.
She was driving him fucking crazy.
What the fuck was the deal with her brother showing up in Marcus’s club like he could call the shots and telling him where to put Keesha? The fucker had even had the audacity to recommend she mix drinks.
Marcus scoffed as he went and found a shirt in his closet. “Keesha, bartend? My ass.” Kadia wasn’t the place to throw a
new girl behind the bar and hope she figured it out. People paid top price for their drinks there. What did Robert think Kadia was? A hole in the wall country bar with double high ball specials and three dollar Fireball shots on Wednesday nights?
He was out of his damn mind.
Marcus shrugged into his shirt and took his pistol from where it rested on a bed of socks and boxers in the top drawer of his dresser. He had a gun at Kadia too, stored in his office in a safe under his desk. He’d never had to pull it out at work but it gave him peace of mind to know it was there.
He probably didn’t need to be packing when he met Cole today but there was no harm in being prepared, especially since Adam Cooper was out and about in the city.
Bullets were better than caution.
Every. Damn. Time.
Of course, Marcus’s victims might disagree.
Marcus tucked the gun into the back of his jeans, shrugged into his black jacket, and made for the door.
Even as he cursed Cole for spoiling his morning, there was another nagging thought at the back of his mind.
Keesha.
Why his mind continuously went back to her, he didn’t know. All he knew was the redheaded viper with a chip on her shoulder was too much distraction for a time like this.
As he walked down the hall to the elevator, he banished the girl from his mind and thought instead of the enemy in his crisp white suit and smug smile.
The war was underway.
Cole stood under the Viagra sign with his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket. He wore jeans and military boots, and even though he’d been off the force for a year, perhaps more, he still looked like a cop.
Maybe it was aviator sunglasses despite the overcast weather that made Marcus feel that way.
Marcus got out of his black muscle car, slammed the door, and approached the man. “You’d better have a damn good reason for calling me out here. You have no idea how good my morning could have been.”
Cole arched an eyebrow and let out a weary sigh. “Let me guess. You were drowning in pussy and tits?”
“Three pussies. Six tits. But who’s counting?”
“You, apparently.”
Marcus rolled his shoulders and looked around, making sure the coast was clear. The parking lot was a pretty rough place. All around this part of the city were abandoned old businesses and a couple old school brick warehouses with boarded-up windows. Kadia, just two blocks up and over, was on the cusp of where the neighborhood got good again. Perhaps that was due to the fact that the seedy underbelly bottom-feeders knew better than to hang around a place like Kadia. For their own good, they kept clear.
The parking lines had long since worn away and cracks in the pavement were filled in with shiny black rubberized tar. The cars were all pretty worn down. Most were old paint-chipped and sun-faded sedans, most likely owned by people who worked minimum-wage jobs nearby or lived in the rundown apartment building on the east side of the lot on the other side of a row of foul-smelling dumpsters. The parking ticket dispenser on the other side of the lot was covered in graffiti, tags, racial slurs, and spray-painted images of circumcised dicks.
Marcus wondered if the youth of future generations would ever be inclined to draw something else.
Like uncircumcised cocks, he mused to himself.
Marcus eyed the ex-cop. “Why am I here, Cole?”
“I found a guy.”
“A cop you trust more than the others?”
Cole nodded and scanned the lot. His head never moved, but his eyes slid slowly across the space. He had clearly spent a lot of time on surveying duty and Marcus had the impression whatever Cole wanted to tell him was sensitive information he didn’t want to risk anyone important overhearing.
Suddenly, Marcus appreciated the mediocre meeting place.
“I have a guy but I’m going to need your help to run this job properly.”
“Who’s the guy?” Marcus asked.
“That’s not on the table.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed. “You realize you answer to me, right? Not the other way around?”
“Yes,” Cole said smoothly. “But I’m not going to throw his name around too soon. A lot of shit could still change and, no offense, but I don’t need a good solid cop like him being on a first-name basis with you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Cole smiled. It was a rare sight. “You know exactly what it means, boss.”
Marcus blew off the insult with an eye roll. “Fine. Protect your little cop butt buddy. What do you need from me?”
Cole did another pass of the parking lot with his eyes. A red Hyundai with squeaky brakes pulled into the lot and parked in the far corner near the garbage bins. A man in a suit that was too big got out and hurried off the lot property and around the corner, most likely late for a shift at an office of some sort.
“I need your help to get Cooper to a predetermined location,” Cole said.
“Be more specific. What’s the location?”
“It’s a private underground function. Lots of bad people all in one place. If there are casualties, well, it won’t be that big a loss. They’re not good people. They’re people like you.”
Damn. The ex-cop was growing colder and colder by the day. Marcus liked that.
“So you want to send me into the dragon’s den alone?” Marcus asked. “Of course, this is the shit you stick me with.”
“I’ll be on the outside with my man. You can trust me.”
“Heard that before.”
“If you don’t have the balls, I can ask someone else.”
Marcus moved quickly and stepped in close to Cole, so close that their noses almost touched. He grabbed him by the front of his jacket. The leather creaked as his fist tightened. “Who the fuck do you think you’re dealing with, boy? I’ve tussled with badder boys than Adam fucking Cooper. Tell me the place. I’ll make it happen.”
Cole didn’t try to pry free of Marcus’s grip. He didn’t even flinch. His expression remained calm. “There are rumors of an underground rave happening in the city this weekend. Saturday. It’ll be held in the abandoned subway tunnels six stories underground. I hope you’re not afraid of deep dark places.”
Marcus smirked. “Don’t you pay any attention? Deep dark places are where I live and breathe. The tighter, the better.”
Cole didn’t react to Marcus’s sexual comment. “I have a guy confirming the location and I’ll send you the details on how to get yourself in. We make the arrest there when we catch him trying to commit murder.”
Marcus felt a flare of doubt. “And who is it Cooper is going to try to kill?”
“You.”
Naturally.
The plan was as sound as any plan could be in this life. They had a beginning, middle, and end. And Marcus liked to be in control. He’d rather be the guy on the inside than anyone else.
“I can make that happen,” Marcus said.
“You think you can convince Cooper to show up at the rave?”
“Don’t underestimate me.”
Cole watched another car pull into the lot. He kept his eyes on the vehicle as he spoke to Marcus. “All you have to do once you’re inside and find Cooper is start an altercation. It needs to get heated enough or dangerous enough, where Cooper is forced to pull out his gun.”
“It sounds tedious.”
“It sounds like attempted murder,” Cole said. “And at this point, that’s the best thing we’re going to be able to pin on this asshole. Once we have him in custody, the cops will have time to build a legitimate case around him.”
“Other cops and judges might be working to get him out.”
“True,” Cole admitted. “But this is what we agreed on with Dimitri. Drake has given us the green light. Do you want to call them and tell them we’ve changed our minds?”
No. Marcus didn’t want to do that. He said nothing.
“Exactly,” Cole said.
“There are a lot of moving pa
rts in this plan. Men like Adam Cooper can sniff out a trap a mile away. We need to expect that he expects us.”
“Agreed,” Cole said with a curt nod. “Keep your phone on you. This shit could go down any time and we need to make sure we can get in touch quickly. Contact Cooper. Set it up. Keep me posted. My man and I will have your back when the time comes.”
Marcus nodded and turned to head back to his car.
“Do you know what you’ll say to him?”
Marcus looked back over his shoulder.
“To Cooper, I mean,” Cole clarified.
Marcus shrugged. “I don’t have a damn clue. But I’ll think of something.”
10
Keesha
Bloom was fully booked from open to close on Wednesday, and Keesha’s day was flying by. She loved the busy days. Time slipped away as she processed payments, filled in future appointments for clients, saw to washing towels for the stylists, kept on top of sweeping the floors, and made sure clients had hot cups of tea and coffee should they need it if they were there for long coloring appointments.
It was quarter to twelve when her boss, Ricky, came to stand behind the reception desk with her while she was on the phone with a customer.
Keesha glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled while holding up a finger, asking him to give her a minute. Ricky perused her desk and straightened out some pens and pencils that weren’t in need of straightening in the first place. He flipped through her appointment book which was color coded and expertly organized by Keesha herself, and she had to pull it back toward her and mouth to him, I’m trying to book an appointment.
Ricky chuckled and held up both hands as he backed up and leaned against the back wall.
She put her back to him and rolled her eyes.
Ricky was an idiot.
“I can put you down for the twenty-fourth at ten o’clock,” Keesha said. “Would you like a cut as well as a half head of foils?”
The customer on the other end, a regular named Carol who had been getting her hair done at Bloom for the better half of a decade, hummed thoughtfully. “Yes. I might as well. I’m going on vacation the following week, so a fresh cut sounds like a good idea.”