Jameson’s Debt
Forever Midnight MC#4
Victoria Gale
Published in 2020 by
Deryn Publishing
United Kingdom
First Published 2020 as part of the Crimes of the Wicked Limited Edition Anthology
© 2020 Deryn Publishing
All characters, places and events are fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, places or events is purely coincidental.
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored or distributed in any form, without prior written permission of the publisher.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Not all families are made from blood.
Prologue
The second his eyes hit mine, I knew I was in trouble. There was something possessive in his gaze, something dangerous. A rush of fear struck deep in my chest, my vision blurred, and the club whirled around me, a maelstrom of noise and color. I was used to meeting those some might call bad men. Men who stole and killed and used people to keep themselves in the life they were accustomed to. Hell, my own family had exploited those weaker than themselves for generations. They were no saints, but still, they maintained a certain level of humanity and compassion. They took, but they also gave. The man talking to Gabriel, my brother, had no such traits. I’d never been more certain of anything in my life.
My first instinct was to turn and run, but years of living up to the Rizzo name and upholding the reputation of my family stalled my steps.
I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it was obvious my brother had realized something was wrong when he froze and followed his companion’s gaze. A troubled look flashed over his face when he found it resting on me, but he didn’t hesitate in stepping in front of the man and blocking his view.
With his gaze no longer burning into me, I took a gasp of air while Gabriel motioned a couple of women, one blonde and the other brunette, to welcome his guest. A pang of guilt formed a lump in my throat at the thought of what those women might be getting themselves into, but I pushed it away. My brother never made any woman do something she wasn’t willing to, and they were as free to leave as I was.
With that thought in my mind, and with the strobe lights and the thumping base now making my head ache, I decided it best to call it a night.
“Let’s get outta here,” I said to Rahat as she edged through the crowd toward me and suggested we grab another drink from the bar.
“But we’ve only been here an hour,” she said and flicked her lustrous black hair over one shoulder. She looked stunning in her black, strappy catsuit. The sheer mesh bodice left no doubt that Rahat liked to keep in shape, in much the same way the molded bra cups left no doubt that her ample bosom was the result of implants. I looked down at my own natural E cups and wondered why anyone would willingly make their chest the same size as mine. To say they had been the bane of my existence since I turned fourteen would be an understatement. Although, you wouldn’t know it with the metallic mini dress I wore that delved into a deep V at both the front and back, highlighting all my assets.
“Please, let’s just go.” I reached for her hand. I couldn’t leave my friend in the club, not with a man who made my every nerve ending scream to run away or cower in fear.
Rahat brushed my hand away. “Jeez, Carina. What the hell’s gotten into you?”
“It’s nothing. I just...” I shrugged and glanced around the club, trying to spot the man with Gabriel again, but at the same time, hoping I wouldn’t find him. When I saw him in the VIP section deep in conversation with the blonde, I quickly pulled my eyes away and took Rahat’s hand again. “I’ve got a really bad feeling about tonight. We need to leave. I’ll explain at my place. We can watch a movie or something.”
She stared at my face, her own burning with questions. After a moment, she huffed out a breath and nodded. “Fine. You win. But can we please grab a bottle or three of Prosecco from the bar to take with us?”
“That we can do.”
Rahat flashed me a beaming smile. “You get the bottles and I’ll grab our jackets. We can meet at the front door.”
“Thanks, Rahat. But make sure you’re there in five,” I said, knowing full well that the only reason she’d volunteer to grab the coats was to say goodbye to Don, who was working tonight in the back office where we’d stashed them.
She winked. “See you in five,” she said and disappeared back into the crowd.
I sighed, resisted the urge to glance at the VIP section again, and headed to the bar. A path cleared. Not every customer knew who I was, or that my family owned the place, but the regulars had an idea that I received special treatment at the club. Plus, I normally gave off a vibe showing that I wasn’t to be messed with. When a hand snaked around my waist and pulled me backward into a hot and clammy body, I guessed today, with my insides rattled, that vibe was absent.
“Get the fuck off me,” I said, trying to break free.
“Come on, love. Just one dance.” In his free hand, he held what smelled like a glass of whiskey, only just discernible beneath his stench of BO and booze that stood out amongst the other drinking bodies in the club.
I stifled the roil in my stomach, stomped on his foot, and elbowed him, forcing him to break his hold and drop his glass.
He cursed and reached to grab me again. A mask of anger flashed over his face. “Fucking stuck-up bitch,” he almost spat. “You think you’re too good for me.”
I was about to come back with an appropriate response when someone beat me to it.
“The lady is too good for you,” someone said in a voice cold enough to freeze the whiskey puddling on the floor.
Two men grabbed my assailant and dragged him from the club. I could almost feel sorry for what would happen to him, but my mind was focused on the man who’d spoken. Gabriel’s companion.
Although my legs were weak and my stomach felt like lead, I lifted my gaze to meet his face. To some, he would appear handsome: tall, dark, with full lips, and a strong, defined face that matched perfectly his sun-kissed Italian skin. But, up close, the look he gave me was even more terrifying than it had been from across the room. It was hard to explain what I saw, but it wasn’t beauty. It was more a disconcerting mix of hatred, lust, and a need to control.
“Thank you,” I said, and moved to turn.
“Thank you, Xander.”
“Sorry.” I halted my steps.
“My name. Xander Caruso.”
I took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face. “Well, thank you, Xander Caruso. If you’ll excuse me.” This time, I shut my ears to any potential response, turned and walked to the far side of the bar, as far away from Xander Caruso as I could get. “Nicki,” I called to the bartender as soon as I arrived. “I’ll take three bottles of Prosecco to go.” Anxious to be gone quickly, I added, “I’m in a hurry.”
Nicki nodded, stopped what she was doing, and grabbed the bottles. She was placing them in a carrier for me when Xander appeared at my side.
“Perhaps I could buy you a drink?” he asked, his commanding voice easily heard above the music.
“I’m actually leaving,” I said and resisted a shudder. I hated the way he made me feel weak and powerless when I’d alway
s been confident and self-assured.
“One drink as a way of thanking me properly.”
I bristled at this and found some of my usual self rising to the surface. “I have already thanked you twice. Aside from the fact that I never once asked for your help or needed it, I think that is more than adequate for any service you believe you served. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Nicki gave us both a weary look and placed the bottles on the bar in front of me. I reached up to grab the handle of the carrier, but Xander snatched my hand and held it tight in his own.
“Let go of me,” I said, although my mouth was dry and the words hard to come by.
He leaned in close to my ear. “Do I make you nervous?” he asked.
“Nothing makes me nervous,” I lied.
He smiled. “Perhaps you are correct and a thank you is not required. However, it is customary and polite to offer someone your name when they give you theirs.”
“Fine! My name is Carina Rizzo.” The second the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. The dryness in my throat became unbearable when his smile shifted, and I knew that my name had granted him some extra power over me.
“Rizzo,” he said as if to confirm my thoughts. “Of course, I should have seen the family resemblance. Your beauty is very much like your mothers.”
“My mother passed away fourteen years ago.”
I tried to pull my hand away, but he held it tighter, pulled it to his lips, and brushed a soft kiss that made my skin crawl on the inside of my wrist.
“Which is why it took me a while to register the familial resemblance,” he said, peering at me between his lashes. “Your father passed away soon after if I remember correctly. Not that his death was unexpected. He often crossed the wrong people, and the stress must have taken a toll on his heart. A problem I hope your brother has enough sense to avoid.”
My blood boiled. Who the fuck did this man think he was?
“Carina,” Nicki called from across the bar. “Do you need me to get the bouncers or your brother?” she asked.
Xander patted my hand and released it. “No need. I’m just leaving. In fact, I’m due to meet with Gabriel shortly myself.” He nodded to the carrier holding my bottles of Prosecco. “Have a good evening,” he said to me. “I trust we will speak again soon.”
“Carina!” What happened to five minutes?” Rahat’s voice sounded shrill in my ears as she shouted over the music and emerged from the crowd carrying our jackets. She eyed Xander next to me and a smile played at the edge of her lips. “Oh, I see. If you’ve changed your mind and would like to stay, that's fine by me.”
“No, we couldn’t possibly cancel our other engagement,” I said, grabbed her arm, and spun her around. I didn’t look back as I dragged Rahat to the exit.
As soon as we were out the door and down the steps, she pulled me to a stop. “Carina. What the hell is going on? You are not acting like yourself at all.”
I glanced back up at the club entrance. Three doormen covered the door and ushered in the line queuing outside a group at a time. Xander was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t followed me. Not that he needed to with whatever connection he had to my family.
“Carina,” Rahat said again. “Speak to me. Is everything alright?”
“That man at the bar—”
“The hot Italian who looked like he wanted to eat you right up?”
I winced at her words. “Yeah, that man.”
Rahat handed me my jacket and slipped hers on over her catsuit. “So, what’s the problem? You suddenly developed an aversion to drop-dead gorgeous men who clearly have money and want to devour you?”
“Only this one.” I thought about her words for a moment and the way Xander sent cold tendrils of fear snaking up my spine. “The problem is,” I said, “I can’t shake the feeling that this particular man wants to chop me into little pieces with an ax before devouring me, if that makes sense.”
“If you’re getting a creepy serial killer vibe from him maybe you should talk to Gabriel.” She motioned for me to go back inside, but I shook my head.
“Let’s just go back to my place for now and open these bottles. Maybe I'm overreacting and all this will seem silly in the morning,” I said, knowing full well it wouldn’t. Besides, for the first time in my life, I had a feeling Gabriel wouldn’t be able to protect me.
We spent the next five minutes flagging down a taxi.
“Frognal, please,” I said, climbing in when one finally stopped for us.
We shut the doors, slipped on our seat belts, and pulled away. Rahat pulled one of the bottles from the carrier.
“Do you mind,” she asked the driver.
“Not if you’re willing to pay for any damages and lost fares for the night if you soil or break anything.”
“Deal,” Rahat said and popped the cork on the Prosecco.
She took a sip and handed me the bottle. Why the hell not? I thought and took an extra-large sip myself. By the time we reached my flat in Hampstead, we’d finished the first bottle and were ready to open a second.
“What have you got to eat?” Rahat asked as we pushed inside, hung our coats on the rack, and took our shoes off so as not to damage the parquet floor.
“Not a lot. Let’s finish the second bottle, then order Chinese.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said and linked her arm in mine. “Although, let’s drink the next bottle out of glasses.”
“That might be an idea.”
My mind was a million miles away from events in the club when my phone rang.
“I’ll pour us a drink,” Rahat said and released my arm and toddled toward the kitchen.
“Hello,” I said, answering the call.
“Carina, thank fuck you’re home. I need you to pack a bag. I’ve booked you on a flight from Heathrow to New York in four hours. I’ll arrange for someone to meet you when you arrive. They’ll get you somewhere safe.”
I sobered instantly at his words and leaned against the wall, allowing my head to fall back against it. “It’s because of Xander Caruso, isn’t it?”
Gabriel huffed a breath down the line. “Ah, fuck. I just... I just wish you weren’t at the club tonight. Then he would never have seen you.”
Not liking the tone that implied somehow this was all my fault, I straightened and said. “I’m at the club every fucking Friday night.”
“I know, I know. I’m not blaming you. If I’d had the slightest inclination he was coming, I would have told you to stay home.”
Rahat entered the room brandishing two glasses. As soon as she saw my face, she put them on the side table and gave me a questioning look. I pulled the phone away from my mouth and told her what Gabriel had said.
“Serial killer guy?” she asked.
I nodded and returned to the call. “Who the hell is this Xander Caruso?” I asked.
“Let’s just say he’s a bad man who will stop at nothing to get what he wants. And tonight, he’s decided that what he wants is you.”
“Well tell him he can’t fucking have me.”
“Don’t you think that’s exactly what I’ve already done,” Gabriel said in a strained voice.
“Then why do I have to run away?”
“Like I said, he’s a man who gets what he wants.”
“There is no way in hell you are going to New York without me,” Rahat said. “I am not leaving your side until this serial killer Xander guy is dealt with.”
I pulled the phone away from my mouth. “It’s not going to be a fun shopping trip,” I said. “I can’t ask you to drop everything and hole up in some room for God knows how long.”
My friend crossed her arms and gave me her stubborn pose, complete with tapping foot.
“Carina... Carina...” Gabriel’s voice came muffled over the line.
“What now?” I said, returning to the phone.
“Did Xander meet Rahat at the club?”
“They didn’t exactly meet, but he saw her talking to me, and he knows w
e left together.”
“Then she’s going with you whether she wants to or not.”
“You can’t tell her what to do.”
“What did he say?” Rahat asked, picking up her glass and taking a swig.
“He said, you have to come with me whether you want to or not.”
“I already said I was bloody coming, Jeez.”
I rubbed my head. This three-way conversation was impossible. “If Xander finds me in New York and Rahat is with me, that places her in danger.”
“If you disappear and Rahat is left behind for questioning, that places her in even greater danger. As she knows where you are going, her torture and subsequent death at Xander’s hands set him straight on your trail.” He said the words in a deadpan voice, and I knew he was serious.
I glanced at my friend. I always worried that her association with me would be her downfall. Now, there could be no doubt.
“What’s he saying?” she asked.
I sighed. “We’re going to New York,” I answered. “Gabriel?”
“Yeah?”
“What about you? Are you going to be alright?”
“I can take care of myself,” he answered and fell silent for a few seconds. After a moment, he added. “I’ll book Rahat on the same flight as you and email you the details. Get packed and get a taxi to Heathrow as soon as you can. I’ll speak to you in a few days when you're safe and settled. Oh, and leave your mobiles. They’ll only be good for tracing you now. I’ll find another way to contact you.”
“Okay. Stay safe,” I said.
“You too.”
Chapter One
Jameson
“Me hold the baby,” Charlie giggled as soon as Cane entered Caleb’s office with Thea, who carried their two-month-old daughter in her arms. She jumped up on the spare chair next to Rex and patted her lap.
Amber came around from behind the desk and held her hand out. “Charlie-baby, How about me, you, Aunt Thea and Toni-baby go downstairs and leave the men to their boring conversation?” she said. “I’m sure Aunt Thea will let you hold Toni there.”
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