by S. Nelson
“Not tonight. I’m exhausted. How about tomorrow?” I offered.
His face fell, but with the hopes he could indulge me the next day, his blue eyes lit up. I made a mental note to see if there were any available young women at the hospital I could set him up with. We were scheduled to have a new class of nursing students starting on Monday. I’d have to scope out the potential candidates.
“Okay. It’s a plan.” He smiled and waited until I closed my door.
There weren’t too many apartments in the building—only four floors and I was on the top one, which I preferred. I didn’t need to worry about hearing people above me, walking around at all hours of the night. Each floor housed four apartments. Robby and I took up two of those on our floor. One had recently been vacated, by a couple buying their first home, and the other had been empty for renovations.
My landlord was a nice older gentleman, who lived out of the area. Whenever I ran across a problem, he sent someone by right away to take care of it. Robby was forever telling me he could fix things for me, but I didn’t want to rely on him too much, nor did I want him to get the wrong impression. I indulged him enough by trying out his new recipes from time to time because he didn’t have anyone else to give him an honest opinion. Plus, they were always fantastic, so I kind of benefited.
A little while later, after my much-needed relaxing bath, I headed to bed earlier than planned. Checking my phone, I noticed Stone had left me five messages and two voicemails. Most of them were apologetic, but at the same time he was sticking to his justification for wanting me to make an appointment with a woman, instead of keeping Dr. Weber.
I never replied to his crazy rantings. Pulling the blankets up to cover me, I turned off the side light and gave in to the sleep waiting in the shadows to drag me under.
Stone
“Where the fuck are they?” Marek asked, frustration written all over his face. Pacing back and forth in Chambers was only hyping him up, even more so than usual. Ever since we’d saved Sully, he’d been much more possessive over his time with her, despising some of the club’s activities because it meant more time away from his wife. Okay, ‘despised’ was a bit harsh. But he definitely wasn’t as integrated into the day-to-day dealings of the club as he had been. I was happy he’d finally found someone to share his life with, and even though they hadn’t known each other long, he seemed to be over-the-moon happy. And his version of over-the-moon happy was the slight smile he displayed whenever he mentioned her name. It was a big deal for him, and I acknowledged it by taking over many of the duties which required special attention.
Our local businesses needed to be overseen, especially once we finally cut all ties with the cartel. I knew without Marek telling me, that we had to cultivate our new, and old, endeavors to make sure they were as profitable as possible. The Underground was the club’s bar, the only patrons the club’s members. Yes, occasionally strangers wandered inside until they realized who owned the establishment, then they quickly disappeared. No harm, no foul, most of the time. So that business wasn’t necessarily profitable, more of a place away from the clubhouse where people could unwind and let loose.
Flings, the strip club we’d opened close to six months ago, was proving to be quite the moneymaker. Then again, pussy was a surefire way to secure a profitable income. Thankfully, there was no shortage of women willing to take off their clothes for some dough. A quick and easy way to earn money. The women were to follow the same rules as the rest of the Knights Corruption. No hard drugs. Plain and simple. We’d had an issue a few weeks back with one of the strippers snorting heroin before she went on stage. Not only was her performance shitty, but she had put us in jeopardy of getting raided if word ever got out there were drugs at the club. We possessed zero tolerance, and the bitch was fired as soon as Marek confronted her.
We didn’t need any reason for that prick of a DEA Agent, Sam Koritz, to bust into one of our places and start tossing our stuff around like he’d done the last time he and his buddies made a surprise visit to our clubhouse.
Marek was planning to open two more pussy clubs in the next couple months, although now that his time was occupied every second he wasn’t at the clubhouse, I doubted he would be overseeing anything when it came to location, liquor licenses, talent, etc. I’d probably have to step in and take over, and while the thought of interviewing potential talent was entertaining, I didn’t think Adelaide would appreciate me gawking at naked chicks all day.
Fuck! I hated when thoughts of that nature even filtered through my mind. I shouldn’t care what she thought. It was club business, and therefore none of her business. We weren’t even technically together—not that she would have a say about it even if we were. But the thought of her finding out, then being pissed off and doing or saying God knew what, already had me wanting to pass the job off to someone else. Not that any of the other guys wouldn’t jump at the opportunity.
I was so lost in thought I didn’t even notice Marek standing at my side. He gave me a ‘what the fuck’ look before he resumed his annoying pacing. Before either of us spoke, I heard shouts coming from outside the Chambers door.
Our guests must have arrived. About damn time. Sneaking a quick peek at my watch, I noticed they were an hour late, their tardiness grating on my last nerve because they thought nothing of keeping us waiting. But as ballsy as we were most of the time, we weren’t stupid enough to call and inquire as to their whereabouts. Even though Carrillo was repaying a debt to Marek of his own accord, we knew not to push the man.
Not waiting for direction, Marek and I exited Chambers and walked toward the common room. Standing by the front entrance were Rico Yanez and Rafael Carrillo, the two top men of Los Zappas cartel. While Carrillo looked put together and polished, his dark grey suit pressed to perfection, every strand of his dark hair in perfect place, Yanez looked anything but. He was wearing a pair of worn jeans and a T-shirt with two holes near the neckline. I was all for casual, but not for a man in his position. His greasy, graying hair was pulled back tight, making his face look even harsher than it already was. The man had beady eyes, which shouted he was not to be trusted. With anything. I was surprised a man as smart as Carrillo made him his second in command. There had to be a reason why, although I couldn’t fathom what it could be.
Carrillo approached us while Yanez hung back, assessing every member inside the club as if he were prepared to pop off at any moment and start some kind of war.
“Marek,” Carrillo greeted, gripping my friend’s hand. His smile seemed genuine, which made me relax. That was until I laid eyes on his watchdog again. Then my hackles were up and ready for anything.
“Carrillo,” I heard Marek return. “I hope your trip was uneventful.” My prez kept a straight face, but his tone was airy. I knew he trusted the cartel leader, a feat I didn’t possess myself. I was wary of most people, as was my friend. Normally. But I hadn’t orchestrated the agreement the two men had made. I would back my leader up a thousand percent, but I still had my suspicions.
“Shall we?” Marek gestured toward an empty room at the back of the club, nothing inside except for a few chairs. No one stepped foot in Chambers except for the members. Women weren’t even allowed back there. It was a hard and fast rule. The only exception was when Adelaide had to set up a quick operating room for Tripp when he’d been dropped off at the front gate riddled with bullet holes. And while I liked the guy just fine, even sharing a beer or two with him in the past, I hated the fact my woman was the one overseeing his recovery. She still checked in on him, which more than annoyed me.
Trying to focus on what was happening around me, I followed Marek and Carrillo into the room, Yanez walking closely behind me until we were all sheltered inside the small space.
Seeing as how it hadn’t been our first meeting about dissolving the club’s relationship, we wrapped up our little powwow in a half hour. Turned out Rafael Carrillo was indeed a man of his word. It took some time—a year and two months, to be exact—but w
e were finally at the turning point, and we welcomed it with open fucking arms. Not only would the Knights Corruption be on the way to legitimacy, but our enemy would fall to their knees, never to recover enough to be a threat to us ever again.
“If there’s anything you need, just let me know,” Carrillo offered, shaking Marek’s hand while we all stood back at the threshold of the entrance to the club.
“And if you ever want a free lap dance, you let me know.” Marek grinned, slapping Carrillo’s shoulder in a good-natured gesture. We remained close-knit, saying our good-byes when I saw movement from the corner of my eye. For some reason, I knew to give whoever was standing there my full attention. I’d only been half engaged anyway, allowing Marek to take the lead, as he should have being the Knights’ president.
Slowly turning my head, I lay witness to Sully crouching near the bar, and as if I were watching in slow motion, I saw the glass she was holding slip from her grasp and crash to the floor. There had been other noises floating through the air, mainly from some of the men laughing and ragging on each other, mixed with music pumping out of the surrounding speakers. For some reason, though, the glass breaking into tiny shards rang out loud, drawing a few other people’s attention. Marek, Carrillo and Yanez not being a part of them.
Sully’s eyes practically popped out of her beautiful head, her face stark white as if she’d seen a goddamn ghost. She suddenly started shaking, and the weird thing was that she was looking directly at us. Before I even made a move, she bent down and started cleaning up the mess she’d made, but there was something in her body language that put me on full alert.
Fear.
She was fucking riddled with it.
Striding across the open space then approaching her slowly so as not to startle her, I bent down and grabbed the last few pieces of broken glass. Reaching for her hand, I gently helped her to her feet and that’s when I saw it. She’d been crying, her breaths short and choppy as she tried her best to control herself.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, guiding her to sit on one of the empty bar stools. Standing in front of her, I turned around slightly and followed her gaze; when I realized who she was staring at, I frowned. Did she know Carrillo and Yanez?
Internally balking at my own stupid question, I realized she had to know them, simply because the Savage Reapers had an ongoing deal with them. Well, until today, at least. No more.
“That man,” she whispered, averting her eyes to stare at her trembling hands resting in her lap.
“Which one?”
“I can’t be here,” she suddenly declared, trying to rise from the stool but stumbling, the metal legs of her seat screeching across the floor. The noise pierced the air and drew her husband’s attention. Unfortunately, it also drew the attention of our guests.
As soon as Sully realized all three men were staring in our direction, she panicked. If I thought her complexion was white before, she looked like she was about to faint, all the blood draining from her face in rapid fashion.
Grabbing her shoulders, I tried to make her focus on me, but she was too lost to whatever was happening inside that head of hers. Shaking her did nothing but irritate my friend, who was briskly walking toward the both of us.
“What the hell is goin’ on?” Marek asked sternly, reaching for his wife’s hand and pulling her close. “What’s wrong, Sully?” He physically had to turn her face so she would look at him; otherwise, her stare was latched on to the two men standing by the door.
“That man . . .” she repeated, her breath leaving her lungs in a desperate attempt to form a noise.
“Which one, sweetheart?” Marek cooed, starting to panic himself because of his wife’s odd behavior. “Tell me what’s wrong. You’re freakin’ me out.” He placed his hands on her upper arms and pulled her in to him, whispering, “You can tell me. It’ll be okay. I’m here. No one’s gonna hurt you.”
“Yanez,” she cried, resting her head against her husband’s chest for support. Or to hide. I couldn’t distinguish which. Maybe it was both.
Something bad was about to be revealed, I knew it deep in my soul, but there was no preparation in the world that could have prepared me for what came flying out of Sully’s mouth. “He . . . He—” she cut off, tears tumbling down her cheeks as she so desperately tried to continue, her entire body shaking in Marek’s embrace.
“He what?” Marek seethed, gritting his teeth because he knew as well as I did that her disclosure was gonna be detrimental. She was visibly terrified, and we realized she wouldn’t react in such a way unless something unspeakable had happened.
Finally connecting her eyes with her husband’s, she whispered, “He raped me.”
If ever I thought I’d seen my best friend enraged before, it was nothing compared to what he showed right then. Fire lit his eyes, his posture locking into place as his muscles coiled. The air around us thickened with deadly tension, the likes of which I’d never experienced before. I would go so far as to say I’d actually seen the pulse in his neck beating furiously, his body’s reaction heightening it quickly. Too quickly. God knew what deadly thoughts were crashing into his brain right then.
Suddenly, Marek locked eyes with me, a desperation I’d never seen before putting me on edge. When I’d received his unspoken plea, I nodded and moved closer to his wife.
It was mere seconds before he was sprinting across the length of space separating us from the one man who was gonna feel the brunt of all his rage.
Reaching the bastard in no time at all, he cocked back his fist and let it fly, connecting with the side of Yanez’s face before anyone saw the assault coming. The man’s head whipped to the side and he instantly lost his balance and tumbled over, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. Marek was on top of him before the man could right himself, continually hitting him in the face. All the while, Marek never said a word, which was the eeriest part of the whole scene. Rage poured from him and onto the man lying beneath him. It was obvious Yanez had no idea why he was being attacked.
Or at least, that’s what I thought.
Until he opened his fucking mouth and essentially sealed his fate.
“Her f-father gave her to m-me,” he garbled, blood dripping from his nose and mouth as he tried to speak, his left eye well on its way to being swollen shut. “It was a fair exchange for doing business.” Although I was clear across the room, I heard every vile thing the man spewed, sickened to my core at what Sully had endured at the hands of not only Yanez, but essentially her father as well. The one person who should have been wired to protect her. The same person who’d thrown her to the wolves. And I was sure it wasn’t the first time.
Sully dropped her head, her hair falling forward and shielding her from the scene unfolding in front of everyone present. The cloak of black gave her some kind of solace, some detachment from reality she so desperately needed. Feeling helpless in all this, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her to me, doing my best to show her we were all there to protect her. She’d come to trust us during her short time with the Knights Corruption, but right then she needed strength more than ever, and I was only too willing to offer it.
Marek managed to get in one final punch before he was hauled off the bastard by Hawke and Trigger. I wanted to be the one to stand next to him, but I knew he would have wanted me to watch over his wife. So I stayed put—for the time being, at least.
The entire time, Carrillo stood back, not saying a word or lifting a finger to try and help his right-hand man. A smug expression danced across his face, and I suspected the head of the cartel had little to no respect for Yanez, his allowing someone else to pummel him all the proof I needed.
Once both men were on their feet, Marek grabbed the gun hidden in his waistband, pulled it free, and pointed it directly at Yanez’s head. There was no tremble in his arm, no hesitation in his stance, just a resoluteness which emanated from his entire body, as if shooting a man dead in the middle of the clubhouse was a normal occurrence. Which it certainl
y was not.
Sully leaned further into me. I supported her, silently promising her everything was gonna be okay, all while watching my friend threaten a member of the cartel. The very same cartel we’d just broken free from. How would Carrillo feel if Marek killed his second in command? Would he wage war on the Knights? Or would he be elated that we’d rid him of such a vile creature?
I guessed we were about to find out.
“You raped my wife!” Marek roared, stepping closer and pushing the gun hard against Yanez’s temple. Almost immediately, a ragged sob tore free from Sully’s lips, realizing everyone there had just found out what had happened to her. Mortification covered her skin, kissed her cheeks, and took hold of her body. Shaking and borderline hysterical, the only thing I could do was hold her tighter, kissing the top of her head and whispering, “Shhh . . . It’s okay.”
“I didn’t know she was your wife,” the man gritted, spitting blood on the floor after answering. There was no remorse in his tone, or fear on his face. He stood tall and glared at Marek the whole time he had a gun against his head. Yanez knew as well as I did that, if Marek shot him, his boss would be forced to retaliate.
Knowing I needed to step in before the situation escalated beyond control, my eyes darted around the room. “Jagger!” I hollered, seeing the prospect enter from the kitchen. “Get over here. Now.” Once he was close, I carefully guided Sully toward him. “Get her out of here,” I instructed. I knew Marek had a problem with the kid, but it wasn’t the time to worry about such things. Jagger heard the urgency in my voice and didn’t argue, ushering Sully into the kitchen where she would be hidden from whatever was gonna happen next.