by Vivian Arend
Addressing him in Albanian so their captives wouldn't understand, Devil asked, "What do you want me to do with them?"
"They're thieves." It was all he had to say.
"And the club?"
"Burn it."
As he left the building gripping his bound prisoner by the back of the neck, Ben experienced the briefest pang of guilt and regret at how easily he gave such terrible orders. He shoved the kid into the passenger seat and buckled his seat belt. Not because he wanted to keep him safe but to deter him from trying to bail while they drove.
The rap music grew louder as Ben backed out of the parking spot. No doubt Devil had turned up the volume to hide the wailing cries that would soon erupt when he unsheathed that wicked knife of his. His passenger noticed and swallowed loudly. "Are you going to kill my friends?"
"Not tonight," he answered honestly. "Do you know what we do to thieves?"
The kid shook his head so Ben lifted his hand and wiggled his pointer finger. His captive paled and looked sick. "It's a small price," Ben reminded him. "It's a hell of a lot better than a knife to the throat."
"Yeah," he weakly agreed. "It wasn’t personal, you know? We didn't want to cross you or Lalo, but Calvin is our boss—"
Ben couldn't help himself. He laughed at the absurdity of it. "He's your boss? What? You guys think you're starting up your own little mafia?" When the kid didn't answer, he realized that's exactly what they thought they were doing. "Are you really that fucking stupid? Do you know who runs this town?"
"Nikolai Kalasnikov."
"Did you think he was going to let some new outfit shoulder their way into the inner circle and upset the careful balance he maintains? Huh?"
"Calvin said that with Besian out of town and the cartel about to start a civil war, we could take what we wanted. He said this was the time to strike. He said—"
"I don't give a shit what Calvin said. I asked what you thought would happen if you made this move."
"I didn't think. I just…I wanted it. I wanted it all."
"That greed is going to get you killed."
"Tonight?"
Ben didn't answer because he honestly wasn't sure. Lalo would want the kid's head as a deterrent for anyone else who thought they could steal from one of his dealers. Though it wasn't a pleasant thought, Ben recognized that it would be easier to get Baby back from Lalo if he gave him the kid as a gift. Could he do that?
His lack of a reply silenced the kid who gripped the seatbelt with shaking hands. The sight of all that trembling made him remember the first night he had been thrown into the adult side of the jail. One of his mother's rich and well-connected customers had managed to get him out the next morning but that night he had been terrified. He hadn’t grown into his full height or bulked up yet so he was smaller and easily subdued, especially with the group of men jammed into that cell.
But Devil had been there that night. He had never met the man everyone in the Albanian crew called Dreq, but one look at that face and he had known. Somehow Devil had recognized him as Seline's son and Besian's sort-of ward. He had kept Ben safe that night. Two days later, Devil started training him to fight and build muscle. Within six months, he had been the mafia's newest enforcer. The rest was history.
"Left at the next light," the kid said finally. "You know Carston's Floors and More?" When Ben nodded, he said, "It's closed now and the building is empty. It's a good hiding place."
Within five minutes, they were parked in the alley behind the bankrupt business. The kid squeezed in through a broken window and Ben had no choice but to follow him. He did it carefully and with his weapon at the ready. If this little shit tried to attack him, he wouldn't hesitate. He wasn't going to let anyone rob him of the chance to slide back into bed with Aston.
The kid grabbed a couple of flashlights from a work table and handed one over to him. Ben flicked it on and used it to do a quick sweep of the place. Most of the inventory had been cleared out during the final blowout sale, but there were still pallets of tile, rolls of carpet and boxes of laminate flooring stacked around the storeroom. With a wave of his flashlight beam, he gestured for the kid to keep moving.
In the far corner of the storeroom, hidden behind rolls of thick, blue carpet, sat two pallets loaded down with more drugs than Ben had ever seen at one time. It was an absolute fucking fortune in product and the biggest take their family had ever gotten over on another crew. He prayed the extra cash would soften Besian's anger when the time came.
Digging out his phone, Ben called Zec and hoped the infamous international smuggler had landed in Houston. When the call went to voicemail, his hope deflated. Before he had tucked it back into his pocket, the phone began to ring and his hope flared to life again. "Zec?"
"I hear we have a little problem." The gravelly voice that greeted him inspired a chill deep in his chest. Though Zec had never treated him with anything but respect, he had heard about the man's peculiar appetites. There weren't many people who scared Ben but Zec was one of them.
"I took care of it. We'll have the cars in hand soon." He eyed the baggies and bricks in front of him. "I have something you'll want to see."
"Is that so?"
"Yes." He rattled off the address of the building. "I'll be here."
"Alone?"
Ben glanced at the kid who held the flashlight between his bound hands and swallowed anxiously. Glad they were speaking Albanian, he said, "Yes."
The phone call ended, and Ben tucked away the phone. He stared at the kid for a moment. "What's your name?"
"Tayshaun."
"How old are you?"
"Nineteen."
Ben's jaw clenched. "Do you have family?"
"I've got a sister up in Dallas."
"That's it?"
"She's got three kids."
"And a husband?"
"No."
"Boyfriend?"
"No. She's alone. She works nights as a nurse in one of the emergency rooms there."
Ben's gaze slid to the shelves behind Tayshaun. He crossed to them, quietly and with purpose, and grasped the handle of the tile knife there. Tayshaun's breath hitched. For a moment, Ben thought he might try to run, but the kid finally found the courage to man up and face what was coming to him.
"Can you make sure my sister—?"
"You can tell her whatever it is you want to say when you see her later." Ben snatched Tayshaun's hands and cut the rope binding them together. He dragged one hand to the nearest table and steeled himself for the blood that would soon cover its surface.
"You're letting me go?"
"I'm giving you a chance I never had." He pressed the edge of the knife into the kid's throat, nicking his darker skin and watching the blood pool along the silver edge of the blade. "If you're smart, you'll get out of town immediately. You don't call anyone. You don't text anyone. You forget about everyone you ever knew in Houston. You run to Dallas, and you never look back." He pushed the blade a little harder against Tayshaun's throat. "If I ever find out you came back here—"
"I won't," he swore it like a vow. "I'll leave right now."
"You had better. Lalo Contreras will have your dick for what you've done. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
Ben tried not to think about where this sudden burst of mercy had originated. Less than a night in Aston McNeil's company and already he was getting soft. Besian would smack the shit out of him if he could see him now. Disgusted with his own weakness, he moved the knife to Tayshaun's finger.
Flattening his hand on the tabletop, the kid inhaled a shaky breath. "Do it, man. Just do it!"
So he did.
CHAPTER FIVE
My ringing cell phone dragged me out of a fitful sleep. Inhaling sharply, I scrubbed a hand down my face and reached for my phone. Without looking at the screen, I swiped my finger across it and lifted the device to my ear. "Hello?"
"Aston."
My stepbrother's deceptively warm voice jerked me fully awake. "Calvin. Where are
you?"
"Well, it's an interesting thing. You see, I have Baby. In fact, I'm sitting in her right now. With a can of gasoline and a box of matches," he added with a shrill laugh. "Can you imagine the bonfire? It's going to be beautiful, probably even prettier than the time I burned all of your mother's photos."
My stomach churned painfully at the memory. He had gathered up every photo of her in the house along with her wedding dress and other mementos my father had kept for me, taken them outside and thrown them into a flaming fire pit. That had been the night Daddy finally realized I wasn't being a jealous, petty little girl who wanted to break up his new marriage. It was also the last night Calvin lived in our home. By the next morning, he had been packed off to a military academy. Not that it had helped any…
Tired of his cruel games, I sighed with resignation. "What do you want?"
"I want what's mine."
"And what is that? You were given everything that was promised to you in the will." I had given him more than that, actually, in the hopes that he would go away and never bother me again.
"I want my father's company." His venomous voice made me shudder. "Jack stole it from me the same way he stole my mother."
He sounded like a petulant child. It occurred to me that he might be a man in age but he was perpetually frozen as a bitter, sadistic little boy. "Is that what this is about? Is this why you've been tormenting me since we were kids?"
"I tormented you because it made me laugh to see you cry. If you weren't so fucking weak, I might have stopped after the night I gave you to Russ, after your father finally understood what it felt like to have someone take something precious from you."
The way he spoke made me wonder what Russ had told him about that night. Had Russ lied about raping me to protect me from Calvin? Had my father gone along with the lie and allowed Calvin to think he had succeeded in his vicious trick to protect me? As far as I knew, Russ and Calvin had never spoken again after that night. Was there another man I owed a favor and a debt of gratitude?
"The company is gone, Calvin. It was completely dissolved."
"Not all of it," he argued. "Jack kept everything from the research and development department of Darbin Industries inside his safe."
I tried to remember exactly what the company my father had gobbled up in one of his acquisitions actually did. It was something to do with satellites. After Calvin's father had been arrested for drunk driving, the company's revenues had tanked. A few months later, he had died in a small-engine plane crash. Shortly after Daddy acquired Darbin Industries, he had started dating Marjorie. Calvin had been fourteen then. Had it looked as if my father was taking everything away from him? Even so, that was no excuse to do the awful things he had done.
"Is that why you ransacked the house while we were burying daddy?"
"Your stupidity never ceases to amaze me. Of course! Do you really think I gave two squirts of piss about cuff links and jewelry? Now, listen to me, Aston. I'm waiting at the house. You have exactly sixty minutes to get here and unlock that safe or else I'll burn this whole fucking house down with Baby in it."
He wasn't bluffing. He would do it. Hell, he was probably going to do it even if I gave him everything out of the safe.
"I'll be there."
"One hour, Aston—and come alone. Don't even think about bringing that Neanderthal mobster you've been fucking all night."
The revelation that he had been following me hit me like a wave of cold water. Suddenly nervous, I dropped the phone, slid out of bed and reached for my clothes. Was he watching me now? Had he hired someone to keep tabs on me? Knowing that he had Baby, I had to accept that he had instructed those men in the SUVs to try to kill us.
He's insane. You can't go meet him. He'll kill you.
But I was so tired of being afraid of him.
My gaze landed on the matte black pistol Ben had left behind. Picking it up, I tested the weight of it and squeezed the grip. As a backup piece, it was smaller and lighter than the type of weapon a man like Ben would normally carry, but it was perfect for me.
As I got dressed, I remembered what I had promised him. I picked up my phone to call him and let him know that I was leaving, but he hadn't given me his number. I didn't know how to reach him. I doubted anyone was at the auto shop this early. Would anyone even answer if I called?
I couldn't meet Calvin without telling someone so I sent a text message to the only person in the world I trusted without reservation. If anyone could help me now, it was Marley.
"Well?" Ben watched Zec poke through the massive stash of drugs. "I can move this easy. I won't pay full price, not even to you and Besian, because I'm going to have to be careful about sending this far away to avoid a clash with the Guzman cartel. You'll still get a nice cut."
"I'm not worried about my cut. The money will go to my crew. After tonight's problems, they deserve it." He glanced at the four guards who traveled with Zec. "Can you handle this?"
Zec rose from his crouched position. The shadows hid his face but the glow of a flashlight illuminated the open collar of his shirt. The gnarly scar he bore from a razor that had slashed open his throat was hidden beneath a tattoo that served as a reminder of what he had survived. It also reminded Ben that he had just asked the stupidest question ever.
"Are you that hot to get back to that sweet little heiress you've got tucked away at Alina's?"
Annoyed that he could never have even one secret, he growled, "Did they put us in one of the rooms with the peepholes?"
"No, but when a young woman like Aston McNeil walks into a brothel with one of our men, Alina knows that it's something I want to know." He let loose a laugh. "I would have loved to have seen that girl's face when she realized you had led her right into the most exclusive brothel in Texas."
"It was the only place I could take her."
"I agree." His mouth curved with a teasing grin. "And did you take her?"
"Jesus, you and Devil are worse than a bunch of gossiping old women, you know that? What I do with my dick is my business."
"Until it becomes mine or Besian's," he warned carefully. "Have fun with her if you like. Fuck her for the rest of the weekend if she's good—and then get rid of her." Zec squeezed his shoulder with a brutal hand that Ben knew had done some truly terrible things. "She's beautiful, and I don't blame you for wanting something so precious, but you can't have her. She's too high profile, and she'll bring too much attention to the family."
Ben wanted to argue, but he clenched his teeth together and nodded. Zec's hand moved to the back of his head in an almost fatherly gesture. They shared a silent look. For the first time, Ben saw beyond the soulless blackness of Zec's gaze. For the briefest of seconds, he caught a glimpse of something vulnerable and sad.
But then it was gone, the moment so fleeting Ben questioned whether it had happened at all.
Zec pulled back his hand and cleared his throat. "If you're starting to feel like you want something real and not just a tumble with one of the dancing girls, tell me and I'll find a good girl for you. One of us," he said pointedly. "Someone of our blood. Someone we can trust."
The thought of letting a man like Zec act as his matchmaker was too much for Ben to even consider. He put up his hands. "I'm going. Call Devil. He'll have the cars by now."
Zec pushed the two severed fingers across the table with the tip of the blade Ben had used to separate them from Tayshaun's hand. One would be given to their boss as the payment for the honor debt he owed for stealing those cars. The other would go to Lalo. "Where are you going?"
"To get the Aston Martin," he said matter-of-factly.
"For my delivery?" Zec called after him.
Ben didn't dare ignore him, but the smuggler wasn't going to like the answer. "No."
He half-expected Zec's guards to accost him and drag him back, but they let him pass. Out in Devil's truck, he fired up the ignition and backed out of the alley. He hadn't been to Lalo's house in a few weeks, not since he had delivered that l
ast modified car for the dealer, so he decided to call ahead, especially since it was so damned early in the morning. The call went to voicemail so he left a short message.
No sooner had he ended the call than his phone started ringing. He glanced at the number but didn't recognize it. With a thud, he remembered that he hadn't exchanged contact information with Aston. Even if she wanted to reach him, she couldn't. Unless she had gotten brave enough to venture outside the room where he had left her to find Alina and ask.
"Aston?"
"You gave her a gun?"
Taken aback by the furious voice on the other end of the phone, it took him a moment to place it. "Marley? How did you get this number?"
"How do you think I got it? I asked Spider." She huffed and panted and sounded as if she were trying to get dressed as quickly as possible. "What the hell were you thinking giving Aston a gun?"
"I was trying to protect her." His stomach knotted with dread. "Marley, where is Aston? Why are you calling me?"
"She sent me a text about twenty minutes ago. I didn't see it until I got up to get a drink. She's gone to meet Calvin. He has Baby."
"No, he doesn't." Panic gripped his heart like a vise. "Where is she meeting him?"
"At her house," Marley said, the rattle of keys filling his ear. "I'm heading there now."
"Give me the address." He pulled over long enough to punch in house number and street for the GPS unit. "I'm fifteen minutes from her house. Where are you?"
"Too far," Marley said, her voice tight. "I'll hurry, but you better get there first. You don't know what he's like. You don't know what he's capable of doing."
"I'll get there." He hung up and dropped the phone onto the seat before checking the rearview mirror and merging back into traffic. If Aston had sent her message twenty minutes ago and she had left the brothel around that time, she wouldn't reach her home in Royal Oaks for another ten minutes or so. That would only put him a few minutes behind her.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, he silently berated himself. How could he have been so foolish? He had left behind the gun not because he intended her to actually use the damned thing but because he had hoped it would make her feel more at ease knowing she had a way to defend herself. He had hoped she would be able to rest and stay safe while he sorted out this clusterfuck.