by E. M. Moore
My posture droops as his fingers delve deep between my muscles.
“You take too much on your shoulders.”
He doesn’t even know the half of it. I shared what we thought was going down with him this morning. He wanted to call Johnny right away, but I convinced him I didn’t want to bring it to Johnny if it was bullshit. He doesn’t know I have another reason for wanting to do this, to ingratiate myself even farther into the belly of the Crew. To stick myself so far up the Crew’s ass I’m practically Big Daddy K’s daughter.
My stomach roils. I hate the fucking thought of that, but if he lets his guard down around me, he’s toast. I’ll have him wasted before he can even blink. The worst thing that could have happened over the last several weeks was Johnny telling him we couldn’t control ourselves around one another. I’m sure that made me look like a pathetic female, which is nowhere near how I want him to view me. Maybe this sick part of me wants him to like me too. It’ll feel that much sweeter when I kill his ass. Knowing I got one over on him. That he isn’t the high and mighty leader of the Heights Crew. That I took him out. A no one. I can almost picture the look of betrayal in his eyes.
“You’re tensing up again,” Magnum murmurs.
“Lots on my mind.”
“You’re worried about Oscar.” It’s not a question, but a statement. Magnum sees everything. It’s like he has a direct line to my brain. I’ve never met a man who was that observant before. My uncle, as good as he was to me, was clueless when it came to my aunt.
“No kid should have to see their parent like that,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
“It’s a sad reality here.”
“But if Dunnegan is doing that to them…”
Magnum moves to my neck. He massages his strong hands up the base and down the curve to my shoulders. I close my eyes because it feels that damn good. He sighs, and his breath hits my neck. Goosebumps sprout over my body. He’s standing so close.
“Have you thought that maybe Big Daddy K and Johnny already know about this? That maybe this is sanctioned by them?”
My mouth parts, and a solid brick falls to the floor of my stomach. Magnum stops massaging me for a brief second and then keeps going. “I—I hadn’t thought of that,” I admit. “Maybe briefly, but I don’t think they would do this.”
“You know they’re not good people.”
“But Oscar’s mom.”
“They’re not good people,” Magnum reiterates again.
I want to ask him again why the hell he’s working for them then? But that’s not fair. Oscar’s the same way. He’s in the Crew even though he really doesn’t want to be. Maybe Magnum’s the same way. Maybe he’s stuck. The Crew took his father and mother away from him too.
It’s not easy to get out of the Crew. It’s virtually fucking impossible.
Magnum moves his hands downward, the pads of his thumbs digging into my shoulder blades.
“Do you think that’s what’s going on?”
Magnum’s silent for a moment. His movements don’t stop, but they let up while he thinks. “I think the only reason they’ll care is if they’re losing money on this. If Dunnegan has a side business going that he’s cutting the Crew out of, that’s what makes it a big deal.”
“I hope Johnny doesn’t know,” I confess. It’s one thing to have underground fights. It’s one thing to own a racetrack. To own a strip club. But it’s completely different to be involved in using prostitutes to satisfy someone’s sick sexual craving by holding drugs over their heads. The flip my stomach does only solidifies the fact that I don’t know if I would be able to get past this if Johnny’s aware.
“Me too,” Magnum says. “Johnny’s on a seesaw right now. Let’s say the left is his father and all the terrible shit he does and let’s say the right is you and what you represent.”
I swallow, his words forming a lump in my throat. He’s acting like I could be Johnny’s salvation.
“Right now, he’s got two legs on either side of the pivot point. One toward his father and one toward you. I hope he chooses you, but he may as well be brainwashed. You have a headache in front of you if you want it.” Magnum steps closer, his chest grazing my back. “No one would blame you if you don’t want to take this on.”
Magnum and I stand in silence. Neither of us moving. The thumping of my heart reverberates in my ears. My back pricks each time Magnum takes a breath and his chest brushes my skin for even the briefest moment.
He moves closer. His hot breath caressing the dip of my neck. “I mean that, Kyla. No one would blame you.” His lips are scant inches from my skin. It feels as if Mag and I are on a seesaw too. One move away, and it stops everything. One move closer, and it’ll start something else. I remain frozen in place, terrified one way or the other.
I take a deep breath, my shoulders rising with the motion. His lower lip brushes my skin. Neither of us breathe.
A knock sounds on the door. Magnum’s hands tighten on my back for a split second, but then peel away. “I’ll get that.”
When he steps back, a breeze of cold air surrounds me. I take the bag of clothes I brought with me and head toward the shower area. I could use a shower about now. I need to wash these thoughts away before they take hold of my brain. Focusing on what’s going down at Candy’s is what I need right now.
I take the quickest shower of my life. When I towel off, I dress in the clothes I brought with me. No dress and heels this time around. I pull on a pair of skintight leather pants, boots, and a halter-top instead. This way, it’s easier to get around if I have to, and I won’t have to worry about showing my goods to anyone if I get in a compromising position.
When I walk back out into the main area to do my makeup and hair at the sink, Magnum acts like nothing happened between us just now, so maybe it was all in my head. I imagined the whole thing. The tension between us. The underlying meaning of his words.
Oscar’s in the room now, too. Magnum is trying to draw Oscar into a conversation, but it isn’t working. He’s been in his own head since yesterday. I can’t imagine knowing that your mom was about to pleasure some fucktard for drugs. That’s got to mess with your psyche.
I finish up, and Brawler walks in. “Ready?”
We all head out. While we’re in the back of the car, I pull Oscar’s hands around me and lean into him. “We’ll figure this out,” I whisper. He hugs me to him, kissing my temple.
“I kind of figured what she was into, so I don’t know why it’s hitting me this hard.”
“Because that’s your mom,” I say. “And that shit ain’t right. We protect the people we care about.” Or we seek vengeance for the people we care about. I get exactly what Oscar is feeling. He’s in that phase where he’s trying to wrap his head around it, but when he comes out the other side, he’ll want to make someone pay even more so than he did last night.
Magnum pulls the car up to the back of Candy’s like we would on any normal celebration night. I send Johnny a quick text letting him know I won. It’s too bad he couldn’t have come home today, but it’s also a blessing. He wouldn’t let me out of his sight if he had, and I’m determined to help Oscar figure out what’s going on with his mom and the connection to Candy’s.
We don’t really have a set plan, except that Magnum and I will be taking a look around to see how the workers act tonight. We’ll also occupy Dunnegan and any of his workers, so that Oscar and Brawler can search the office. We even talked about heading upstairs again to see if it’s happening right under our noses. What Magnum said to me in the locker room rears its ugly head, and I hope that Johnny has no idea what’s happening with these poor women. I’m disgusted already. Sick to my core.
He better not be involved in this because that’s crossing a line I refuse to cross with him. I give him leeway because of the life he’s lived, but I won’t go there.
Magnum paves the way for us inside Candy’s. Like normal, Dunnegan is there waiting for us. He’s always struck me as an intelligent, well-man
nered man. Then again, on the outside, no one would guess the shit that Big Daddy K has done. His exterior is made up of fancy suits, cocky smiles, and brash—often logistical—business decisions that make them a lot of money. Maybe Dunnegan should have the same classification as him?
He gives me a slight bow. “Kyla, I hear another round of congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. I make a show of looking around his showroom. “Looks like Candy’s is the place to be again.”
He beams like this was all his doing. It wasn’t. This was Johnny putting Candy’s on the map as something other than a respectable strip club. There aren’t even any strippers on the floor right now. There are dancers, and the dances they’re performing are sexy, but the dancers themselves aren’t naked. Johnny’s completely changed the face of Candy’s. For the better.
I return his smile, although it’s pretty muted compared to his. “Johnny is still away on business. Do you mind having a drink with me?”
Dunnegan stands straighter. He’s pleasantly surprised as he offers me his elbow, and we walk onto the floor together. He leads me to our usual table in the midst of all the cheers sent my way. I wave politely, but I don’t lose focus of what I’m doing. I’m keeping Dunnegan preoccupied so Oscar and Brawler can get into his office to see what he’s up to. If they are doing the drugs/prostitution as a business, he’ll have records. Profit and loss statements. Bank accounts. Anything that we can use in our favor to prove to Johnny that Dunnegan is doing something behind their backs. Like Magnum said, if the only way Johnny and his father will care is if they’re making a profit off it and not sharing, we have to bring them that proof.
Let’s just hope nothing we find ties Johnny to this. It doesn’t seem right to me. Why would he go to so many lengths to bring a different crowd of people here if he knew what was truly going on?
Unless he wants more people around to hide what they’re actually doing.
Magnum brushes up against me. I glance his way, and he nods.
I take a deep breath. Right. Stay focused.
Dunnegan escorts me to my side of the booth. I slide in while he goes around the other side of the half-moon table, unbuttoning his suit coat so he can sit. A waitress approaches. She has a crop top on with long sleeves. The shirt itself is covered in sequins with the word Candy’s splashed over her chest. It’s much different from the outfits the waitresses were wearing the first time I came here. “Boss,” she says, nodding to Dunnegan. “Princess,” she says, nodding to me.
I gnash my teeth together. If people are going to call me Princess, they shouldn’t forget about the Uppercut part. I swear I should start slamming my fist into everyone who dares call me just Princess. “Kyla’s fine,” I say tersely. “Can you get me an Amaretto Sour and whatever your boss usually likes to drink?”
The waitress’s gaze cuts to Dunnegan. He waves her off. “Can’t drink while I’m working, I’m afraid.”
I lean back in the booth, pretending to look out over all the sweaty, dancing bodies. “This place has made such great strides. What a great accomplishment,” I tell him, stroking his ego.
“We’ve tripled our quarterly income in just thirty days,” he says. His gaze almost twinkles as he looks out over the floor.
I note some of the waitresses. The one we had was clearly fine. The others carrying drinks and empty glasses around us look clear too. There’s no outward signs of drug use like there was before when Johnny and I were here. The crowd has shifted from casual on-lookers to more participatory. “You’ve probably had to increase security.”
He nods. “Different clientele, different rules. But we’re still far and away in the black.”
I like that he’s being so upfront with me. He’s not just saying, “Sales are good, little girl. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” That would definitely cost him an uppercut to the chin.
“You seem interested in the Crew’s assets,” he throws out.
I smile at him because this isn’t hard to discuss at all. “I’m afraid Johnny’s beginning to realize I’m more than just arm candy,” I tell him.
“You have brains,” he says, smiling knowingly. “I bet he likes that.”
The smile that moves my lips farther apart is genuine. “I think he does. Or he’s beginning to.”
“The partner you choose is exceedingly important.”
“You married?”
He lifts his finger to show off his wedding ring. If he’s involved in this prostitution ring—if that’s what it is—I feel terrible for his wife. To know that someone you love would do that to women is just disgusting.
“Good for you,” I say. “A smart businessman like yourself chose wisely, I’m sure.”
“The foundation starts in the home,” he tells me, gaze drifting to the crowd. “If that’s broken, good luck making anything of yourself.”
Dunnegan says all the right things, but what kind of person is he, really?
The waitress who called me Princess comes back over and sits my drink in front of me. “We’ve named that the Uppercut Princess. We sell out of it every night.”
“Yeah?” I ask, using the small straw to stir the drink. I guess I’ve made it. I have a perfectly fine alcoholic drink named after me.
Dunnegan sets his hand on my arm just as I’m about to bring the glass to my lips. “Sorry I can’t sit with you any longer, but I have something to attend to. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
My smile turns tight. Fuck. I was hoping I could occupy him for longer. “Of course. Thank you.”
As soon as he disappears in the thick crowd, I pull my phone out and shoot Brawler a text to get out of his office if he’s in there. Then, I send the same thing to Oscar. If Oscar got caught in there, it wouldn’t be too big of a deal. He’d most likely be able to talk his way out of it, but not Brawler.
My stomach is in knots, so I tip the drink back, swallowing the sour liquid. “See anything out of the ordinary?”
“I don’t think what we have to worry about is down here,” Mag says. “I’m pretty observant, and I didn’t notice anything off until we were upstairs yesterday.” That leaves us with how we’re going to get upstairs. Before I can even look over my shoulder at the staircases that leads to the floor above us, Magnum says, “Looks like security is standing guard today.”
I see it now. Two men in black polos with Candy’s written on the upper right chest guard the bottom of the steps.
Oscar and Brawler approach the table. It’s so weird that they can’t sit at the table with me right now when yesterday, we had so much fun here not being ourselves. Well, maybe it was just me not being myself, but now, they have to stand at the front of the table like we’re merely acquaintances instead of two people I know intimately.
“Anything?”
“I grabbed a file,” Oscar said, patting his jacket. “I didn’t get a chance to get a good look, so I don’t know if it has anything important.”
Before I can get upset that we’re literally failing at this, I say, “We need to get up to the next level to see if it’s still happening.”
“You can’t go,” Oscar says, piercing me with a look that begs me to defy him, but I know he’s right. “Magnum can’t either because he’s watching you.”
“I’ll go,” Brawler says, voice like stone. What we saw up there yesterday affected him, too. I bet he sees his sister in every victim’s face.
Oscar looks like he wants to tell him he can’t, but Brawler’s the logical choice. If Oscar goes, it makes it Crew business even if it isn’t. If Brawler goes, he’s free from any ties. “Be careful,” I tell him. “Take pictures.”
“I got it,” he says.
He turns, leaving the table. He doesn’t go directly for the stairs because that would be obvious, but he lingers at the bar for a few minutes, warding off advances from older women that get my hackles up. I lose sight of him when two couples approach the table to talk about my fight. That’s basic
ally what these after parties are, so I sit and talk with them for a few minutes before Magnum makes it obvious the conversation is over. When they leave, Oscar’s left too, and I can’t find Brawler in the crowd anymore.
“We should probably wrap this up soon,” Mag says, gaze darting around the room.
I nod, not knowing at all if we have what we need. Regardless of endearing myself to the Heights Crew, we need to get this prostitution drug operation shut down. I’ll even sneak the information to the police so they can get it shut the fuck down.
I’m still looking at Mag when his body freezes. I track his gaze across the floor and try to find what’s caught his attention only to find Brawler’s arm around someone, a head on his chest. It reminds me of how he walked me out of here yesterday, and my heart takes off like a rocket.
I stand, eyeballing the two leaving not just the upstairs but Candy’s altogether. The weird part is, I recognize her. At least, I think I do.
What in the fuck?
29
A part of me knows Brawler wouldn’t do something like that, but another part of me is saying that this is just what happens in the Heights. The place I brought myself to. The place I infiltrated and made myself one with.
“Come on,” Mag says, his voice gruff. He helps me out of the booth while I’m still staring at the spot where Brawler and another girl just left.
I pinch my thigh, but no, I’m still in Candy’s. Still trying to figure out what is going on around here.
He puts his hand on my lower back as he guides me through the crowd. We finally get to the hallway that leads out the back door. We start to pass Dunnegan’s office, but he calls out my name, so we have to stop. “Thanks for coming,” he says graciously. “Tell Rocket he better hold on tight to you.”
It might be me, but his smile looks forced this time. Then again, my head isn’t completely in the game since it’s on Brawler’s hand around another girl. “I’ll tell him,” I say back, trying to manage a smile, but I’m not sure it comes out at all.
We head outside. I search the area for Brawler and slow when I don’t see him at first. Then, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I slip it out. We’re inside the car.