by LK Shaw
My laugh came out awkward and shaky. “Yeah, that seems a little extreme.”
I was desperate for more information, but I didn’t want to appear too eager. “Crap, I need to finish getting ready. Mikey will kill me if I’m late. I’ll see you out there, okay?”
Michele nodded. “You got it. Knock their socks off out there.”
She smiled and waved. I took a few deep breaths, trying to get my focus back. I didn’t need to do anything to fuck it up. I ignored my churning stomach and I pushed out of my mind all the scenarios in which I found my brother dead.
Chapter 8
The minute I walked in the door of Sweet SINoritas, which I thought was a ridiculous play on words, the subtle smell of sex filled my nose. Technically, the women who danced here weren’t allowed to have sex with the clientele, however, everyone knew it happened. The manager, Mikey, got a cut of the girl’s fee, so they didn’t do a lot to curb the behavior.
I strode through the dimly-lit room toward the bar, constantly observing my surroundings. The sounds of Pony by Ginuwine screamed from the speakers. I barely controlled myself from groaning at the cliché.
“Tomás, look at you, slumming it with us down here in the gutters. I thought you were living it big up there with Mr. Álvarez?”
Mikey “The Shark” Martinez stepped out from behind the bar to greet me, hand outstretched, a smarmy smile gracing his face. A smile I didn’t return. He reminded me less of a shark and more of a bulldog. His face and nose were flattened and his head was large for his body, which was tall and stocky. He was also a sketchy fucker. Which was why I was here. Rumor had it he was skimming money off the top of his drug sales. I’d come here to remind him of the consequences of stealing from Miguel Álvarez.
“Why don’t you and I have a tête-à-tête somewhere a little more private.” I ignored his gesture, which forced him to awkwardly drop his hand to his side, and his smile dimmed.
“Pri—” He cleared his throat, swallowing hard, before rubbing his ear as he stuttered. “—privately?”
I jerked my head in the direction of his office. “Lead the way, Mikey.”
Keeping an eye on the various bouncers who observed us, I followed him to a red velvet covered door marked PRIVATE. I closed the door behind me and moved against the far wall, making sure my back was to it so I had full view of the room, including the door we’d just entered.
“Why don’t you have a seat.” I gestured to the only chair, which was positioned behind the desk.
Hesitantly, he seated himself and, in a surprisingly smart move, kept his hands where I could see them. Slowly, I strode toward him, stepping behind him, where I stopped. He shifted in his chair, and sweat beaded across his forehead.
I laid my hands on his shoulders. He flinched at the contact. “Do you know why I’m here?”
Mikey cleared his throat. “I swear I planned on paying Mr. Álvarez back. I just needed a little extra to get by.”
I sighed heavily in disappointment. “Mikey, Mikey, Mikey. I like you. I really do. Which is why I’d hoped those rumors I’d been hearing weren’t true.”
He started to turn, but I shoved him back down in the chair. “Tomás, please.”
I leaned down and spoke low in his ear. “You know what happens to people who ‘borrow’ money from Mr. Álvarez, don’t you, Mikey?”
He trembled beneath my fingertips, and uttered only a single word. “Please.”
I stood upright and gave his shoulder a light slap before removing my hands and moving around to tower over him. I placed my hands on the crappy particle board desk and invaded his personal space. I tried not to gag at the smell of stale coffee and cigarettes.
“My reason for being here was to determine whether the rumor was true or not. I don’t know how much money you took. I don’t even care. I’m showing you a professional courtesy. This is your single warning. You have one hour to return what you’ve stolen and you’ll live to tell your kids about it. You’ll likely have a few less fingers, but at least you’ll be alive. One hour. Then I’ll be passing along your indiscretion to Mr. Álvarez. We both know he isn’t known for his kindness or his leniency. There’s one rule. You don’t fuck with his money or his drugs.”
His voice was shaky. “What happens if I can’t? I mean, what if I need more time?”
“There is no more time. If it’s going to take you more than an hour, then you better spend that time with your family telling them you love them. Either you’ll be dead, or they will be. All depends on Miguel’s mood. He’s capricious, you know.”
I turned and strode to the door. I stood in the now-open doorway and looked back at Mikey, who remained frozen in place. “I’ll be at the bar waiting. Don’t fuck this up.”
I made my way to the bar without incident. Not that I expected Mikey to try anything, but desperate people did desperate things. After sidling up to the large, smooth mahogany bar, I ordered my usual gin and tonic. I watched as several women led a client to a private room where whatever arrangements they’d made would be performed. Already, I was bored. The currently playing song finished and the dancer left the stage. When the music began again, I straightened, surprised by the haunting tones that floated around the room.
I didn’t recognize the song, but it was certainly a strange choice to strip to. When the dancer stepped on the stage, all the saliva in my mouth dried up. Holy fuck.
Gabriela.
Her lithe body was meant to be worshipped. Perfect tits were shamefully covered by a barely-there bra. Her toned and tanned legs were meant to be wrapped around my waist. The scrap of fabric covering her pussy was useless since it did nothing to keep her covered. I swallowed hard.
She swayed and dipped and what should have been odd, considering the song choice, was instead sensual and erotic. My feet moved of their own accord, and I prowled toward the stage.
I knew the instant she spotted me, because her movements hiccupped. She recovered quickly, though.
I remained off to the side, standing in the shadows like a creepy Peeping Tom, though the object of my voyeurism was well aware I watched. When the tempo of the song changed, her movements followed suit. More than once Gabriela’s eyes met mine, and there were brief moments when I imagined she danced only for me. Finally, god had mercy on me because the song came to an end, and she hastily picked up stray bills that had fallen to the floor before exiting off the stage. I tracked her as she rounded the stage, now empty-handed. She flitted from table to table, flirting and smiling at the various suit-clad men seated nearest the stage. She avoided my gaze entirely.
I vacated my spot and decided it was time to reposition myself at the bar, which so happened to be where Gabriela now stood.
“Interesting song choice.” Her breath caught and then quickly restarted. I casually leaned sideways against the bar with my ankles crossed.
She threw a half-hearted smile in my direction while she tried to shift further away from me. “Thanks.”
I studied her while she pointedly ignored me. She gave off sultry siren vibes, but there was an air of innocence around her. What was her story? Fucking puzzles. It was time to see if I could get some answers.
Chapter 9
When I’d spotted Tomás watching me dance, I almost froze but forced myself to keep going. I couldn’t help the occasional glances in his direction. His black t-shirt hugged his muscular body to perfection, while the tight blue jeans he wore hung low on his hips and accentuated the fact the man had zero fat around his waist. I couldn’t see them, but somehow I knew his abs were rock-hard. Even standing in the shadows, his hawk-like gaze made my body heat.
My abuela would tell me it was fate that kept throwing him in my direction.
There was an intensity about him that was intriguing and mysterious, but that was Ines’ hormones talking. The rational and focused Ines, on the other hand, knew any distraction from finding Ernesto was bad news. For so many reasons. Not the least of which was that it was dangerous to piss off your boyfriend. Even if the re
lationship was merely a ploy to gain information. So, no matter how attracted I was to Tomás, I had to constantly remind myself that he was a member of the cartel. Maybe if I kept repeating it to myself, it would sink in.
Forcing myself to ignore the man standing far too close, and the fact that I was practically naked, I called out to Damon, who was working behind the bar. “I need two vodka martinis, neat with three olives, a whiskey on the rocks, and a Corona without a lime, please.”
I was acutely aware of Tomás’ presence next to me, and it was driving me crazy. He was driving me crazy. “Stop staring at me. It’s creepy as fuck.”
He didn’t even blink. Instead, he only gave me this cocky half-smile. Like he knew what he was doing to me and enjoyed it. Asshole.
“Sorry.” He sounded anything but.
“I don’t think Alejandro would appreciate you making a play for his woman.”
He shrugged. “Who said I was making a play? Can’t a man just appreciate a woman’s beauty without trying to get into her pants?”
“Well, it sure seems like you’re doing something with all the lurking in dark corners and well…the lurking.”
This evoked an actual full-bodied laugh. Holy shit, the man was absolutely breathtaking. I shook the thought away. Damon chose that moment to arrive with the drinks.
“Look, I need to deliver these and get back to work. While you, in the meantime, need to stop being creepy.” I grabbed a small serving tray from the end of the bar and placed the drinks, along with some napkins, on it. I picked it up and gave one last glance at the far too sexy Tomás before starting back toward the gentlemen’s table who’d ordered the drinks.
“See you around, raya.”
I stumbled at the nickname and the promise in his words. Shit. Finding my footing again, I kept my eyes ahead and pasted on my fake smile before delivering the drinks I carried. It took everything in me to pay attention to what I was doing when all I could feel was Tomás eyes burning a hole in my back. My body was on alert. It also betrayed me, as my nipples pebbled and my core throbbed.
He knew exactly what he was doing do me.
A short time later, I saw Mikey approach him, fear pouring from the former. I couldn’t get a gauge on what Tomás was feeling. They both moved from the bar and headed toward the office before disappearing inside. My focus alternated between serving drinks, avoiding straying hands, and observing that closed door, wondering what was going on behind it. I shivered with something like dread.
Five long hours later, my feet were screaming in agony and my ass was bruised from the pinches and light smacks I’d endured. I was also frustrated. None of the conversations I’d heard tonight were useful. No mention of a cop at all. It had me wondering if the rumor Michele heard was, in fact, just a rumor. I made a mental note to call my dad first thing in the morning. Now, all I wanted to do was take a shower, put my pajamas on, soak my feet in Epsom salt while I ate a pint of ice cream, and then crawl into my warm, comfortable bed.
“You about ready, Gabby?” Michele called out from the dressing room door.
“Yeah, give me just a sec.”
I shut my locker and grabbed my bag, taking a quick look around to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. Then I went to meet Michele.
“Soooo,” she dragged out the word once we were outside and walking toward the train station. “Who was the hottie that was totally eye-fucking you half the night?”
Her eyes were lit with excitement and curiosity and she practically danced with giddiness waiting for my response.
“C’mon Gabby, spill it! He was dreamy.” She sighed the last.
I shrugged. “He’s just some guy who works for Mr. Álvarez. I don’t even know him, really.”
She shot me a look of disbelief. “You may not know him, but he sure as hell wants to know you.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter what he wants. I’m with Alejandro.”
Michele snorted and rolled her eyes. “Pffft. Alejandro is a boy. Mr. Sexy is pure man.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been called Mr. Sexy before.”
We both screeched and spun toward the voice behind us, me instinctively ready to defend us.
“You…asshole,” I stuttered out the insult, my fists curled at my sides in a defensive pose.
“Tsk, tsk raya. That wasn’t very nice. Personally, I prefer Mr. Sexy.” Tomás winked at Michele, who giggled like the eighteen-year-old she was.
I wondered at the change in him. The first time we’d met, he was this tense, serious man who oozed danger. Suddenly, he’s flirty and charming. I didn’t get it.
“What are you doing following us? I thought we agreed you’d stop being creepy. Sneaking up on us and trying to scare the shit out of us definitely constitutes creepy. Do I need to call the cops?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and tapping my foot.
“Gabby!” Michele scolded.
Tomás just sent me that mysterious half-smile. I was beginning to really hate that smile, because I knew he was laughing at me.
“I saw you two lovely ladies walking alone, and I wanted to make sure you arrived at your destination safe and sound. You never know what kind of riff-raff might be lurking around here.” His innocent expression didn’t fool me.
“Oooh, that is so nice of you, Mr…” Michele batted her eyes even while she fished for information.
The smile he sent her was genuine, unlike the ones he flashed at me. “You can call me Tomás. Or Mr. Sexy. Whichever you prefer.”
“It’s nice to meet you—” she hesitated as though debating on which name to use. “—Tomás.”
I almost let out a sigh of relief. I hated this feeling that was building inside me at their flirty banter. I’d swear it reeked of jealousy. And there was no way I was jealous over Tomás flirting with my friend. No way. I tried to bring Alejandro’s face to mind, but the vision eluded me. All I could see was dark brown compelling eyes, windswept black hair, and thick, sensual lips that even now taunted me with that smile. Shit.
“As you can see, we’re perfectly fine,” I bit out, adding my own fake smile.
“Why don’t I walk you ladies to your stop? You know, just to be safe and all.” Tomás argued.
I waved him away, my smile even tighter now. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to take you away from your important business. I’m sure Mr. Álvarez needs you to oversee some drug deal or another.”
Beside me, Michele gasped.
Tomás’ smile slowly flattened, and it was replaced with something almost like disappointment. The silence grew heavy until he cleared his throat.
“Well, since it’s obvious my presence is both unwarranted and unwanted, I’ll leave you ladies to continue on without me then. Have a good night.” He offered a mock salute before turning on his heels and striding away.
“Oh my god, Gabby, what is wrong with you?” Michele harrumphed and stomped off in disgust.
“Michele, wait,” I chased after, catching up with a few steps.
She kept walking, ignoring me entirely, even when we reached our stop at the el to wait for the train to arrive.
“Will you please look at me?” I begged. “I’m sorry, okay? I was rude to him and he didn’t deserve it.”
“No, he didn’t. That’s not even the entire reason I’m mad. I thought we were friends, and you lied to me.”
“What are you talking about?” Had I inadvertently blown my cover somehow?
Michele pouted. “You told me you didn’t really know him. There is something going on between you two. You could have just told me you didn’t want to talk about him. You didn’t have to lie to me. I hate being lied to.”
“Michele, I’m sorry. I didn’t intentionally lie to you okay.”
There was nothing else I could say, so I waited. Finally, she relaxed and sighed. “I know you think I’m being overdramatic, but there is nothing I despise more than being lied to. I’m sorry for overreacting.”
I wasn’t normally a touchy-feely person, and even as I
reminded myself I was undercover, I hugged her.
“Friends still?”
She nodded. “Friends.”
Chapter 10
Fucking Mikey. When I’d re-entered his office last night and he’d told me he was going to be ten gees short, I was livid. I knew what happened to people who fucked over Miguel. Because dope dealers were easily replaceable, he didn’t hesitate to get rid of those who stole from him. I didn’t know how to protect Mikey, and although I didn’t condone what he did, he didn’t deserve to die for his stupidity. I certainly didn’t need more blood on my hands.
When my phone rang, I knew the night was about to get longer.
“This is Tomás.”
“You’re needed at the warehouse in the Fulton District.” The disembodied voice commanded and then the line went dead.
Shit. Fulton meant someone was being “questioned.” I turned the bike around and headed that way. Once there, I cut the lights and engine and rolled to a stop outside the building. I rapped out a series of knocks before the door cracked open. The light from behind the man at the door momentarily blinded me before my vision cleared and I recognized Javier. He let me in before closing the door behind me. We strode across the cement floor to a steel door on the far side of the room.
On the other side, a beaten and bloodied man sat strapped to a chair. His arms were tied behind him and each of his ankles were tied to the front legs of the chair. He was naked from the waist up and his chest was covered with blood. I wasn’t sure if it was from wounds sustained to his chest or from what was dripping out of his mouth. Next to him was a table with a metal tray covered with various implements. I winced when I spotted a couple teeth.
“Welcome to the party.”
I turned to see a giant of a man step out of the bathroom wiping his hands on a towel. Paulo Hernandez was six and a half feet of pure muscle and reminded me of a professional wrestler. He wore tailored Armani suits, kept a closely shaven mustache and goatee, and wore his shoulder-length, pitch black hair slicked back in a smooth ponytail. Not even a strand dared to stray its confinement. The single diamond in his ear sparkled in the lighting.