Rook Security Complete Series

by Camilla Blake

  The strip club that had been listed in her police write up was called Glitter and it was on the far end of a seedy strip mall. There was a tattoo parlor next to it that looked like a one-way ticket to Tetanus and beyond that was a dollar store with plywood over one window.

  Glitter had a rotating sign out front that was only halfway lit. The sign was black with silver writing and had a silhouette of a girl sliding down a pole, swinging what looked like a tail in one hand, cat ears on her head.

  “Half woman-half cat,” Atlas mused, looking up at the sign. The brothers sat side by side in the parking lot, eyeing the bleak-looking establishment. “I never understood what was supposed to be so hot about cats. I mean, they’re animals. But remember that strip club back home off of exit 76? Pretty Kitty? That had a cat theme too. I don’t get it.”

  “You don’t get it?” Sequence narrowed his eyes at his brother.

  “No, what’s that all about?” Atlas was genuinely perplexed and had been for a long time. He knew that there were definitely people in this world who were attracted to animals. They were called Furries or something. But he really didn’t think that there were enough of them to warrant this many strip club innuendos. And weren’t cats supposed to signify old, lonely women? What was sexy about that? He didn’t understand at all.

  “Dude,” Sequence said, narrowing his eyes the way he did when something was obvious. “Pussy.”

  “Ohhhhhhhhh,” Atlas said as he smacked himself on the forehead. “It’s supposed to remind you of pussy. Pussy cat. Kitty cat. That girl’s part cat because she’s got a…” He pointed at the Glitter sign and then trailed off. “Jeez. Men are disgusting.”

  Sequence and Atlas laughed then, pretty hard, in a way that spoke of just how much nerves and discomfort they both were trying to shake off. Neither of them knew what they were about to encounter in that strip club. And neither of them was anxious to see where Bex had been spending her time for so long. They both thought she deserved a hell of a lot more than Glitter.

  And boy, did she. Atlas wouldn’t have wished this joint on his worst enemy. Any mystique or sexiness this club might have had in the dead of the night when the drinks were flowing, was long gone in the broad daylight. There was a bored bartender texting behind the bar and three or four patrons scattered around the main stage, watching the girl who gyrated slowly on the pole. In the back corner, Atlas caught a glimpse of ruby sequins twerking on a wrinkled suit.

  His stomach plummeted. He’d been in strip clubs before, and ones worse than this for sure. But there was something about the scent of spilled beer and old smoke and cheap body spray in this particular establishment that made him want to puke. It was because he was face to face with Bex’s past. Recent past. And it was sad and depressing and he wanted so much more for her.

  The room was dim but halfway lit with the sunlight eeking through the curtains on one side of the room. Just like everyone else in this club, Atlas found himself shrinking to the darker side of the room, away from daylight, further into the cave.

  “Bartender,” Sequence grunted.

  Atlas agreed. Sitting at a bar was safer than sitting in one of the lap dance chairs.

  The brothers sat down and the bartender, bored, looked up from her phone. Atlas was used to people giving him and Sequence double looks when they saw them together. They were huge men, who were good looking, tattooed, and identical twins. But the bartender took in their appearances in one lazy glance and pursed her lips like she’d already seen this movie and had no interest in a re-run.

  “What can I get you boys.” As she came over, he saw that she was young, though not in stripper years. She was probably 35 and pretty enough that he wouldn’t have been surprised to see her on the pole. She wore a t-shirt cut off at the midriff and painted on black jeans. Her hair was dark but bleached at the tips and spread messily across her shoulders.

  “Club soda,” Sequence muttered.

  “Same.”

  She lifted her eyebrows and sauntered away, coming back a second later with the drinks in her hands. She hadn’t bothered with ice.

  “Here,” Atlas said, sliding a fifty dollar bill across the counter.

  She blinked at the bill. “You don’t have a dollar in change? That’s what the drinks cost.”

  She didn’t want to go through the trouble of breaking the large bill and that was fine by Atlas. “It’s yours.”

  If she was surprised or appreciative, she didn’t indicate either as she took the bill and inserted it into her pocket. “So. You’re cops, then?”

  The brothers laughed for a second, their eyes clashing. Atlas figured that Sequence was remembering everything he was. All the times they’d run from the cops in high school.

  “No,” Sequence said.

  “Well, you’re something,” the bartender said, eyeing them distrustfully. “You sure aren’t private citizens here for a good time while you drink club soda and face away from the talent.”

  Atlas figured the best thing to do now was to affirm her assessment. If he lied, she wouldn’t trust him and there would be no reason to give up what she knew.

  “We’re not cops. We’re private security. We have some questions about a girl who used to work here.”

  The bartender laughed humorlessly and sat on her hip, her eyes flicking behind Atlas to a set of doors that obviously led to the backrooms. “Lotta girls used to work here.”

  “This one is about this tall, brown hair, skinny, big eyes. Left about six months ago.”

  “Jesus,” the bartender said, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “What the hell is it about this woman? I’ve seen her, she’s not that hot. But here she has every man she ever met slobbering after her, sniffing half the world’s butts just to track her down.”

  Sequence gulped half his warm seltzer at once, grimacing and sliding the glass away. “You know her.”

  “Yeah, I knew her. Not well. Nobody knew her well. Some of the girls here, they try to make friends. Not Becca. She kept to herself at all costs. Not friendly.”

  Atlas stiffened at the nickname. He didn’t like hearing it. “Why do you think she disappeared?”

  The bartender eyed him like he was an idiot. “She disappears the same night the owner of the club gets knifed? Why do you think she disappeared?”

  “You think she murdered him.”

  The bartender laughed again, and this time her eyes stayed glued on those back doors, like she was making sure that no one went in or came out. “No. I don’t. I think she was probably as happy as the rest of us that Mark got himself killed.”

  “You didn’t have the warm and fuzzies for your old boss?” Atlas asked.

  She gave him a dry look. “Hard to take a shine to a man who’s been extorting you for the last ten years.”

  “He do that to a lot of the girls here?” Sequence asked.

  She raised her eyebrows, encouraging them to fill in the blanks. “He didn’t have the best strippers in Jersey just by asking nicely. Every girl in here owed him money or worse. That girl Becca was the worst case. Apparently Mark clipped her asshole ex for her and she owed him for the hit. She signed herself up for a life sentence if you ask me. She was never digging herself out of that hole.”

  Atlas couldn’t speak. Didn’t bother trying. He felt as if some cosmic hand had him by the throat.

  The bartender leaned forward and took their glasses, as if the invitation for them to sit at the bar was drying up by the second. “I don’t think she killed Mark. But I think she probably saw him drop dead and took her moment to get the hell out of this dump as fast as she could. I never liked her. But I knew she was a smart girl.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  That night, Rebecca was just organizing the jackets on the hooks in the front hallway when the locks clicked open and Atlas came in.

  For a moment, he just stared at her, standing in the open door, one hand on the doorknob. He looked at her like he was reassuring himself that she was alive and well. His eyes drank her in fr
om her toes to her eyebrows.

  He blinked hard and after a second, his face resumed its normal, good-natured expression.

  There was something off about him, though. It had been unseasonably cold today, so over his slacks and white button down, he wore a black zip up. She knew, just by looking at him, that he hadn’t gone to work today. Her stomach fizzed when she realized what it was. She’d know this look if she were blind. She’d seen it enough in her life.

  “You went to a strip club!” She eyed him with something in-between intrigue and horror.

  “How’d you know?” he asked conversationally.

  Her eyebrows jumped upwards. “There’s glitter on your jacket and you smell like sweaty candy.”

  “Oh. Right.” He tried to brush some of the glitter off his coat and when it didn’t work, he just shucked the coat off all the way. “I didn’t just go to any strip club. I went to Glitter.”

  “What? Why?”

  Rebecca felt like someone had just clamped a hand down on her shoulder. She felt as if that hand was about to lead her to the principal’s office. Or a jail cell. It was almost like she’d been staying here on borrowed time and now the jig was up.

  Atlas kicked off his shoes and walked through the house. He went into the kitchen and flicked on the kitchen sink. She watched, mystified, as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and dunked his head under the water. He scrubbed at his face and beard. When he stood up, water cascaded down over his shoulders and neck, wetting his white button down, making it stick to his skin. But he didn’t bother drying off. He just started scrubbing his hands clean with the dish soap. He dried his hands on his pants and turned to her, pushing his wet hair out of his face.

  “I went because I needed answers without making you tell them to me.”

  “Answers?”

  “Bex, I think it’s time you put two and two together here. I’m going to protect you no matter what. We can do it the easy way or the hard way. And right now, we’re doing it the hard way. I need information to tell to the lawyer so we can figure out how to get you out of this legal mess. And I think I got that info today. I also needed info on this Roderick asshole so that I can figure out how to keep you safe. And I got some of that today as well. I wish we were in a place where you felt comfortable telling me that stuff on your own. But you don’t. We aren’t there yet. So I went and got what I needed to keep you safe.”

  “What do you mean keep me safe?” she asked very, very quietly.

  “I mean that Rook Securities wants to take you on as a client. I talked to my boss. We want you to come live at the bunker for a little while. We’ll figure out how to neutralize Roderick. And if there are legal proceedings, we’ll escort you. Make sure you’re physically out of harm’s way.”

  “Who is Roderick?” The name felt like it was made of rocks in her mouth. She hated saying it out loud. It felt like a bad spell, bad magic, like she was summoning the man toward her.

  Atlas blinked at her for a second. “James Roderick Jr. He’s the man who the police think killed Mark. He’s the man who—I think—you witnessed kill Mark. And he’s the man who you’re worried is after you. Because the night Mark got killed, you left your car at Glitter. You left your purse behind. You even left your street clothes. You ran out of Glitter in your dancing outfit and left town. Just like that. You handed him your identity and have been running from him ever since. Six months later, you moved in here.”

  Rebecca turned and pressed her hands against the counter. She needed something to do with her hands. She felt like she was coming out of her skin. She eyed the dishes in the drying rack and moved toward them. She put the plates away first. And then the silverware. There were just glasses left when she finally spoke.

  “You’ve got it all figured out, huh?”

  “No,” he spoke in that low voice of his. She could feel his eyes on her back. “No, I don’t. I have a thousand questions that only you can answer. I can put the pieces together, but only you can tell me what really happened, Bex.”

  She turned to him, a glass in each hand. “Why don’t you tell me what you think happened, Atlas.”

  He eyed her for a long minute before he boosted himself up on the counter in a gesture so familiar and beloved by her that it nearly brought tears to her eyes. Her heart raced. Half of her wanted him to be dead wrong in everything he surmised. She didn’t want him to ever know the truth. The other half of her wanted him to be right so she could finally breathe. He’d know the truth and she wouldn’t have to hide anymore.

  “Jeff Mather, the first victim, was your… man.” He didn’t say boyfriend and she was glad he didn’t. “After we went to Glitter, we went to your old neighborhood. I talked to your former neighbor in the trailer park, Mrs. Hicks. She didn’t seem to think that he treated you very well. He was found strangled and you disappeared. No one knew to where. But it was to Glitter, wasn’t it? A strip club owned by Mark Ball, the second victim. Now, he was almost as much of an asshole as Jeff Mather. Considering he had every single woman in his employ in some sort of blackmail situation.”

  Rebecca looked up. If that was true, that was news to her.

  “Every dancer at his club either owed him money or owed him favors. He made habits of scouting the talent in other clubs and then figuring out how to extort those dancers to come work for him. I’m betting it didn’t take him long to figure out that you didn’t want to be with Jeff Mather anymore.”

  “I didn’t think he was going to kill him,” Rebecca whispered. She brought her hands up to her face, but realized she was still holding the glasses in either hand. Her fingers were frozen like vices, she couldn’t put the cups down, even as their smooth glass warmed in her hands. “He offered to help me run away. He offered me protection. In return, all I had to do was work at his club for a year. After he’d… killed Jeff, he told me that the price went up. That I owed him money for the hit.”

  Atlas trembled as he pushed himself off the counter. He crossed slowly across the kitchen and when he got to Bex, he slid his hands into his pockets and stood alongside her. His damp shoulder pressed into hers, wetting her shirt. She knew how badly he wanted to touch her, reach for her. And she knew that she was the reason that he couldn’t.

  “You didn’t do anything illegal, Bex. You looked for a way out of a shitty situation. Anything that happened after that was on Mark. Not on you.”

  She laughed and it sounded harsh, unnatural. “Don’t be naive, Atlas. To any law enforcement officer, they’re going to look at this situation and see a stripper who was paying a man who she’d asked to kill her abusive boyfriend.”

  “No, Bex. No. They’ll see a woman who was escaping abuse. They’ll see a woman who fell into the claws of another asshole. They’ll see a woman who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed a murder. Did you know that Roderick is running Mark’s club right now? The bartender told us that too. He’s taken it upon himself to ‘inherit’ all of Mark’s business dealings. Anyone who owed Mark now owes Roderick by three. The cops have all but signed his arrest warrant. They know he did it. They just can’t prove it. If you could help identify him, they’ll protect you. I’ll make them protect you.”

  “You’re insane if you think that’s really what will happen.”

  “I’m not insane, Bex. I just have spent years protecting people. I know what Rook can do for you. He knows people. He can make this safe for you. If you let us, we can all make this better. And we can do it legally.”

  “In exchange for what?” Her voice was low. She felt Atlas go completely still next to her. She wasn’t sure if it was shock or rage or what, but she found she didn’t care. “I’ve had men offer to protect me before, Atlas. And the bill comes due. So, tell me. What am I really signing on for if I say yes to this?”

  “Don’t compare me to that monster, Bex.”

  She felt instant shame at having done just that, but she wasn’t a fool. She’d been here before. She was this skeptical for a reason. Her life experienc
e had made her that way. “I have to, Atlas.”

  He was quiet for a long minute, his shoulder still pressed to hers. “You have to trust me, Bex. Please.”

  “Stop with the please! Jesus, just cut it out!”

  Before she could think, she did what came completely naturally to a woman who’d snapped. Who’d finally had enough. She smashed a glass on the ground, startling the crap out of both of them. She waved around the other one and turned to him. “You’re tricking me. I know you’re tricking me!”

  He held his hands out to her, palms out, but that was all the movement he made. Otherwise he held perfectly still. “How am I tricking you?”

  She smashed the next glass as well. This time it was hard enough that she felt shards bounce off her calves. She picked up another glass from the rack. “You say please. No man says please, Atlas. None of them. No man actually waits for permission. Every man on earth just takes exactly what he wants. It’s like, a natural law or something. But you sit across the room from me on our countertop and every night you say please this and please that and you never take anything from me and it’s a trick! I know it’s a trick. Because you’re not kind. You’re just waiting. You won’t take little things from me because what you really want is a big thing. You want the biggest thing of all. So you’re polite and patient and waiting for the opportunity to take it.”

  He looked stricken and horrified. “Bex, what the hell do you think I’m trying to take from you?”

  “It’s not one thing. It’s all things! You want everything from me, Atlas. You want my time. You want my body. You want my goddamn heart. You want me in every single way it’s possible to want someone. And you’re just sitting over there, playing the long game. Waiting for me to hand it all over.”

  He was panting, breathing hard, his nostrils flaring and his knee jumping. He ripped his hands through his wet hair so hard that it must have hurt him. He let his hands drop and his green eyes just lit her on fire. She couldn’t tell if she was closing the door on a relationship with him or flinging that door wide open.