Checkmate

by Lindsey Powell

  She didn’t find him.

  She lied.

  He fled.

  He’s got her.

  My Paige. My fucking queen.

  “How do you know this?” I ask, because wherever he gets his intel from, I want in on it, and then I want to know why the fuck he’s been keeping this source from me.

  “Because Donovan is sat out front, his face busted up. He managed to get away, and he came straight here.”

  “He’s fucking what?” I rage. “And he just left her with Bobby, on her fucking own?”

  “Seems so, boss.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” I fume before I stand up and march out of my office and out to the main room of the club.

  He fucking left her.

  Bastard.

  As Donovan comes into view, he’s slumped against the bar, a tumbler in his hand, his face dripping with blood. It’ll be dripping with a hell of a lot more by the time I’m finished with him.

  I storm over, fucking murder in my eyes. I don’t even need to see my reflection to know that I look like the mean motherfucker that I am. The first thing I do is knock the tumbler out of Donovan’s hand. The second thing is that I grab him by the scruff of his fucking neck, which I could so easily break right about now. And third, I ask, “Where the fuck is she?”

  “Under Morgan’s restaurant, in the basement,” Donovan answers, looking every bit as defeated as he should feel.

  “Raymond, Nate, Pascal, Big Danny, you’re coming with me. Gary, Leon and Simon, you make sure this asshole doesn’t go anywhere,” I say, pointing at Donovan. “I’ll deal with you later.”

  I leave the threat hanging in the air and stalk out of the club before another word can be spoken and get in my car.

  Raymond gets in the passenger seat, and the boys get in the car behind. They all know to give me a bit of fucking breathing room right now.

  I start the car and then we’re off, flying in the direction of the Morgan restaurant.

  “I have to ask, Joey, is this shit real, are we doing this because she’s one of us?” Raymond asks me, needing to know how far I will go for this woman and whether I expect my boys to put their necks on the line.

  It doesn’t matter that she lied right now. I’m pissed about it, but that happened before we reclaimed one another.

  It doesn’t matter that I’m meant to be putting on a fucking show for the rest of the underworld.

  What matters is that I need to go get my queen, and I expect my men to go down trying if that is what it takes.

  “She’s one of us,” I confirm, and I floor the accelerator, making the car go faster.

  She’s always been one of us.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Paige

  Well done, Paige. Go after Bobby with just Donovan and end up becoming the fucking target.

  Bobby had done his homework. He knew that I wouldn’t see him as much of a threat on his own. How very, very stupid of me. It’s the first time in a long time that my danger instincts have been way off. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

  He’s clearly been watching my moves from the start. But how? Someone must have been helping him, and when I get out of this mess, I will make it my personal mission to find out who. And they will wish that they had never crossed me.

  I don’t think I have ever been this furious in my entire life.

  Brought to my knees by a fucking Morgan. Ugh.

  I’m currently holed up in the basement underneath Morgan’s, tied to a fucking chair, just like Meghan was tied up back at my place. Bobby is stood across the room from me, watching me like I’m his prey. He better believe I’m going to rain down a world of shit on him when I get out of these ties.

  I’ve been prepared for this.

  I’ve had Donovan tie me to a chair more than once, just to see make sure that I can get out of any situation.

  I’m taking my time, making sure that Bobby doesn’t twig what I’m up to.

  Slowly moving my wrists, wiggling my fingers, trying to get the damn pocket knife that is hidden beneath my long sleeved top to move the fuck down, so I can cut myself free from this bullshit situation.

  Donovan and I were ambushed from the off. Three guys waiting to take out Donovan, and Bobby waiting to take me out.

  Donovan. Donovan fucking Marshall. He got away, and he left me here. He escaped without even thinking about taking me with him. He knows I’m not some damsel in distress, he knows that I can take care of myself, but abandoning me? There is no coming back from that.

  Total trust, his words. We’ve always had it, apart from speaking about Joey. And my reasons for that are justified. My love life has fuck all to do with the business that goes down, and Donovan knowing about my past is of no relevance to how we conduct ourselves. He may be pissed, but this is the shittiest way of showing it. Leaving your queen to the wolves. Bastard.

  It’s quite apparent that I am no longer his queen. He is no longer my right hand man. And I have no idea how to process that right now. He’s been with me since day one, and for it to end like this is a total blow to my mind.

  If Donovan has gone into hiding, it better be in a fucking good place because I will search for him for all of eternity.

  “So, Paige Roderick, or should I say, Daniels?” Bobby says, a smirk on his ugly-ass face. “Imagine my surprise when I stumbled across some information that gave me a wealth of knowledge about your past.” He pulls a notebook out of his trouser pocket and flips it open.

  “Yes, here it is… Started out as nothing, came from the gutter, wanted revenge, used to be in love with Joey Valentine, made it a personal mission to take him down and make sure to be top of the chain. Have I missed anything out?” He chuckles. “I gotta tell you, Paige, when you showed up to confront my stupid-ass brothers, I thought that you would have done your homework properly, found out whether all three of us would have been there, but it seems that even the great Joey Valentine couldn’t help you out on that one.”

  His laughter is pissing me off, and I keep working to get the damn knife to my hand, so I can start to cut away at the rope tying me to this goddamn chair.

  “I guess there’s no harm in telling you who gave me this delicious intel,” he says, and I feign ignorance even though I am dying to know who it was.

  “Seems your crew aren’t as tight as you think. You and your boys, thinking they run the fucking playing field when all you have been is a part of my plan.

  “Everyone thought that Larry was the brains behind the Morgan brothers, but they couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve stayed hidden, acted the fucking dumbass, but I always ran the show. Me. No one else. They were nothing but my minions that played out the scenes, gave me the answers and the room to grow.”

  Motherfucker.

  “You know, Paige, seeing you here, tied up, waiting on my next move, it’s something of a turn on,” he says whilst grabbing his dick with his hand and acting an even bigger asshole than usual. Thank God his trousers are zipped up because if he pulled that thing out then I may actually puke.

  I manage to shimmy the knife down and bingo, it’s in my hand and I get to work, slowly starting to cut the rope. It’s going to take me a hot minute, but I’ll do it, I have no doubt at my ability to get the fuck out of this scenario.

  And I certainly don’t need a man to come and save my ass. That ship sailed a long time ago.

  “I have to admit that I never expected Donovan to bail. Thought you two were tight, best buds, actually thought you were both fucking one another at one point. But then the info about Joey landed in my lap, and I knew that you couldn’t be fucking Donovan.” He continues to prattle on and I continue to cut.

  “I must give my upmost thanks to Tony for telling me everything that I needed to know.”

  Tony.

  Fucking Tony is my mole?

  I’ll kill him.

  “He sure does know how to slither like a snake amongst the powerful. He’s been giving me intel for months. What’s your number
one rule, Paige? Trust nobody, that’s it. Fucking stupid female.” He doubles over laughing and that is when my wrists break free. I poke the knife back up my sleeve and wait.

  Bobby sure does like the sound of his own voice.

  “Here’s how this is going to play out. I’m going to take my time with you, touch you, lick you, taste you. You’re going to scream, I’m going to love the sound, and then I’m going to gut you like a fucking fish,” he says as he stalks towards me, bending down so that he’s eye level as he comes to a stop right in front of me.

  The putrid smell of his sweat hits my nostrils and I fight hard to not screw my nose up from the aroma.

  I let a smile grace my lips.

  He’s so not going to be prepared for what I am about to do.

  “You know, Bobby, you really should cover all angles before you tie a woman up and threaten her.”

  “I did cover all angles,” he insists, his nostrils flaring.

  “You sure about that?” I say, tilting my head to the side in question. “You see, most men tend to underestimate me, and that is the biggest mistake that they make.”

  “I haven’t underestimated you, bitch. You’re no longer running things around here, I am. I am the top fucking dog, and once I’ve gutted you, I’m going after Joey,” he shouts as if he is trying to convince himself more than anything else.

  Now it’s my turn to laugh.

  “You think you’re going to get to Joey?”

  “I got to you, I can get to him.”

  “I always thought you were stupid, Bobby, but not delusional,” I reply.

  His hand flies out and slaps me across my face. My head swings to the side from the blow, but I block out the pain. I can deal with that later. Right now I need to stay on my game. My head quickly turns back to him, and just when he is about to rain another blow down on me, I pounce.

  A swift kick to the nuts and a punch to the jaw.

  Bobby’s knees buckle, and he goes down howling. Stupid fucker thought he could overpower me. Now he’s about to learn.

  As he goes to get back up, I slam my knee into his jaw, sending him flying backwards. He’s down and I’m not about to let him get back up. I move over him, punch after punch hitting his smug-ass face.

  His hands fly out, hitting at my sides, his legs kicking out, trying to get me off of him, but once I go, I’m like a fucking force field. I may only be a petite woman, but I pack a goddamn punch and then some.

  Minutes pass by and still he fights against me, but I can see he’s getting tired. Built for speed? More like built to be a sloth.

  His nose is pouring out blood, his hands are still jabbing at my sides, and I’m still not finished. I pull the pocket knife out of my sleeve and let the glint of the steel catch his eye.

  “Oh no you don’t, bit––”

  He doesn’t get to say another word as I plunge the knife into his throat and gargling noises take over.

  I hold the knife there, watching the life drain out him.

  “You never had a chance of running the fucking game, Bobby, and now you never will,” I say, disgust lacing my tone.

  His arms go limp, falling to the floor, his legs stop kicking, but I don’t move an inch until I watch him take his last breath.

  I took down one of the biggest assholes to walk the streets.

  On my own.

  But I feel no relief. I feel no elation.

  All I feel is hurt. Hurt by Donovan and hurt by Tony.

  Maybe this world is no longer for me?

  Maybe I’ve done my time and now is when I get the fuck out.

  Trust. It’s something that isn’t easily earned and can never be repaired.

  Two of my boys have broken that.

  Two of my own.

  And I have no idea how I am going to get over it.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Joey

  Fucking hell, these assholes needs to move the hell out of my way.

  The three ogres blocking the door to Morgan’s are about to die. I need to get in there, see if my girl is okay. I know she can handle herself, but I’m still a man who would die to protect his own.

  I move forwards, in plain sight, pull my gun and shoot. Goon number one drops, then two, then three. I step over the bodies as if it’s just another day at the office, which for me, it is.

  This lifestyle isn’t for everyone, hell, it isn’t totally for me anymore, but I’ll always be in it, as long as Paige is. Wherever she goes, I will follow. Doesn’t make me a lapdog, it makes me a man that is totally in love with a fucking queen who deserves nothing but the best.

  I’m that for her. Me.

  There is a strong possibility that she may kick my ass after all of this, because she won’t want to be rescued, as she puts it, but I don’t care. I’ll let her kick my ass, and I’ll enjoy every goddamn minute of it.

  “Get rid of them,” I bark as I step over the dead goons and push the door to the restaurant open.

  I enter and there is silence.

  Nothing.

  I move to where I know the basement is located by the sheer fact that the trap door is wide open.

  I pause and listen again. Nothing.

  Shit. This isn’t good.

  My heart beats wildly and I start to take the steps down.

  I swear to God, if he’s killed her, I’ll maul him to death with my bare hands.

  But, as I get to the bottom step and look around, I guess I won’t have to maul him, because he’s already dead, bleeding out on the concrete floor.

  And there is Paige, led beside him, eyes closed, and the sheer panic hits me full force.

  I race over, forgetting to check to see if any other fucker is down here waiting to take me out.

  My only thoughts are Paige and if she is breathing.

  I place my fingers on her neck, feeling for a pulse, and I breathe a sigh of relief that there is one.

  I run my eyes over her and notice that her top has ridden up a bit, showing angry red marks on her skin.

  Marks that will leave bruises, and possibly reminders of whatever the fuck she went through down here, alone, with no one stood beside her.

  “Joey,” Raymond says from behind me. “The boys are moving the bodies now. I’ll get this asshole taken care of, you take care of Paige.”

  As if I wasn’t going to do that anyway.

  I gently slide my arms beneath her, a little bit fucking scared to move her in case I cause any more damage to her body, but I can’t leave her here, and I sure as shit won’t let anyone else put their hands on her. I lift her up and hold her against my body. She doesn’t move, totally passed out from whatever went on.

  I nod to Raymond as I leave and make my way out of the restaurant and back to my car. I lie her on the back seat, wishing I could hold her against me, but knowing full well I have to get out of here and let my boys get to work on cleaning this place up and disposing of the bodies.

  I get in the driver’s seat and start the engine. It roars to life, and then we’re off.

  Back to my place.

  Back to safety.

  And far away from all things Morgan related.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Paige

  My eyes fly open and I jolt upright, only to wish that I hadn’t as pain radiates through my entire body. I let out a groan and close my eyes for a second, breathing in and out, trying to reduce the fucking searing that is shooting through my body.

  Christ. Bobby did a fucking number on me. He may be dead, but I’m going to remember this pain forever. I’ve never been this badly injured physically, ever.

  Opening my eyes again, I let them look around the room. A room that isn’t mine. A room that I didn’t expect to be in. Joey Valentine’s bedroom, and I’m in his bed.

  “How the fuck did I get here?” I say to no one seeing as I’m the only one in here. The last thing I remember is stabbing Bobby in the neck and watching the life drain out of him.

  I try to rack my brains for some h
int of how I got here, but I come up clueless.

  I need to get out of here. I need to go back home and give Donovan and Tony a piece of my mind, the two-faced bastards.

  I struggle to get myself to the edge of the bed, grunting with every movement. This shit hurts. So much for coming out of it a fucking warrior. I’m a goddamn mess.

  “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” I hear from behind me, and I jump, making the pain fire through me once again.

  “Ah, motherfucker,” I say as I grit my teeth.

  “Shit, Paige,” Joey says as he stands in front of me. “You need to rest.”

  “No, I need to get out of here and go take care of business,” I tell him, although there is no confidence in my voice, the energy it has taken to move myself has drained me.

  Joey easily lifts my legs back into the bed and covers me over with the duvet.

  “Joey, I seriously have stuff to do,” I tell him.

  He just looks at me as if I have gone insane. “You have nothing to do but lie your ass in that bed and let me take care of you.”

  “I can’t just stay in here,” I argue. “I have shit to run.”

  “Not at the moment you don’t.” He’s not budging, but then I’m not exactly a fucking walkover, so I’m not about to give up.

  “Joey, listen to me, you know that I can’t just take time off. You know that I have things to deal with, so you know that I need to leave this goddamn room.”

  “Paige, I love your determination, your fire and the sexy independent woman thing you got going on, but for the love of God, if you don’t listen to me on this, I will tie you to the fucking bed.” He’s serious. Completely and utterly serious.

  “I can get out of ties,” I respond sassily. I did it not too long ago, and I could do it again.

  “Then I’ll handcuff you,” he says, a slight smile pulling at his lips.

  “I can pick a lock.”

  “Then I’ll use fucking cable ties, hell, I’ll even tighten the damn things so there is no wiggle room.” Yeah, he’s not backing down, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t think I’m going to get my own way here.

  “You gonna cater to my every need, big guy?”