Semblance

by Chris E. Saros

  “Well, the job I have for him is gonna take a while. So, he probably won’t get back for his shift tonight.”

  “Scotty is going to be heartbroken.”

  “I bet.”

  Drake chuckled and turned back to his books.

  “Also, you should get a deposit together for tonight. I’m gonna have one of Tony’s boys come and pick it up at close.”

  A “deposit” for Tony was one of the ways the cartel kept themselves in business. Every week, each business cooking the books gave Tony a rundown of the money, everything coming in and everything going out. It was a way for Tony to keep track of everyone individually and make sure there wasn’t anyone skimming. It also helped to keep tabs on everyone who owed the cartel money.

  From what Drake had gathered, each book was delivered on a specific day to a specific place and only with the most trusted of carriers because each book held enough information to bring to light a portion of the cartel. Drake had only ever seen his own book and had never had a chance to see where it was stored. When he did a drop, it was to one of Tony’s boys, or if picked up, one of Tony’s boys would come to collect.

  Those books were an important part of the operation. If they were to fall into the wrong hands, then vital parts of the inner workings of the cartel would be exposed. Drake desperately wanted those hands to be his.

  Drake pursed his lips. “We usually do deposits on Thursdays—what’s going on?”

  “Nothing to worry about. We’re going to have a larger than normal shipment come in tonight, so we should make an extra-early deposit.”

  Drake stilled at the news. A larger than normal shipment coming in? What was happening that they were going to be bringing in more money than usual? He hadn’t come across any large operations; he hadn’t heard anything about it. That wasn’t good. If Frankie wasn’t talking to him, did it mean his trust was slipping? Maybe they were keeping things tight because the of the house bust.

  It was strange that they had extra money coming in. After the cops shut down the lab, Drake would have expected less money to come in, not more.

  Besides, usually when something big was going to go down they would make sure to plan something at the club, some sort of big event so the extra cash could be explained away. It was unusual for there to be a large amount coming in without warning. Something must have happened. It bothered Drake that he wasn’t in the know. He had really thought he was making leeway with Frankie.

  Using his inventory books as a distraction, Drake looked down and added a few numbers to the pages, pretending the news didn’t mean anything to him. He jotted down a couple of random notes. He wasn’t even sure if what he wrote was English for the amount of thought he put into them. He needed to get some more information. Thinking quickly, he schooled his expression to look back up at Frankie.

  “Am I going to need to bring in a few extra helping hands? I can book that DJ to come back again. Last time it brought in a large college crowd. Or we could do another ladies’ week. That always seems to go over well.”

  Frankie crossed his large arms. “No need to worry about it. We aren’t going to be doing nothing that would draw attention.”

  “Okay, I just want to make sure I can explain it with the accounting. We had a lot of business over the weekend, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Let me know if I need to plan any extra activities for the next few weeks. I don’t want to have too much cash flow without any specials.”

  “Yeah, you got it. But like I said, we ain’t doing anything that will draw attention. Just an extra drop tonight.”

  “All right.” Drake turned back to his books, jotting down a few other numbers. He was going to have to go back through everything again because he was not paying attention to a single figure he was jotting down.

  Nonchalance was all he had to portray right now, like he didn’t care what was going on and he had no vested interest in deals that went on outside his club except for the deposits when they came through. It wasn’t his business to know.

  “’Kay, we’re leavin’ in ten. We’ll be over by Chinatown, so we’ll be back right at close if not a little before that so I can help lock up later.”

  “Eh, don’t worry about it. We have plenty on staff tonight, plus without Jacob making a mess behind the counter, there shouldn’t be a problem.” Drake grinned.

  Frankie laughed and tapped the doorjamb twice in farewell before heading out to whatever dastardly task he was issued today. As soon as he was out of sight and Drake’s door was closed once again, he sat back with a sigh. Running a hand over his face, he made a new plan for the day. He had a broad location, and that wasn’t much to work with. Chinatown covered a lot of ground. If he was going to make a dent in whatever business was going down tonight, he was going to have to do some digging to see if he could figure out what the hell they were up to.

  Chapter 7

  DRAKE LEANED back against the wall in his usual spot, scanning the thin crowd on the dance floor. They were busier than usual for a Monday night, but the crowd was still sparse. Most of the people Drake could recognize as regulars, many of them part of Boredega’s crew. The traffic in and out of the back rooms was pretty steady, maybe a little busier than usual but not enough for Drake to question it.

  If it hadn’t been for the fact that Frankie had pulled Jacob from behind the bar, much to Scotty’s relief, and the early deposit, Drake wouldn’t have thought anything of it. But as soon as Frankie and Jacob took off, Drake started to notice that things were moving a little differently. It could have been because the drug house had been busted leaving plenty of dealers dry and some of them playing catch-up, but it didn’t feel right. Something was up, but Drake didn’t know what.

  It was unusual for this much action in the club without Drake hearing about it in advance. Maybe the extra money would make up for the loss on the house. But it didn’t seem right.

  Drake stood, scanning the crowd for someone he knew he could get information from without it seeming strange. He was almost ready to give up the hunt for a familiar face when Natasha stumbled her way onto the dance floor tangled around a young kid who Drake recognized as a regular at the club but not of the back rooms.

  Drake caught the eye of the wandering waitress and signaled for her to grab him a drink before he headed toward the dance floor. He approached slowly, watching the couple move with the music. The kid had Natasha pulled close, pressing her large and scantily covered breasts along his chest and her groin tight to his. Even though the pair looked intimate, Drake could see a fine line of distress distorting Natasha’s usual bravado.

  With closer inspection, he noticed that she had a hand pressed between them, pushing herself back as far as she could get as he held her to him. The kid’s face was pressed into her neck. If this was any other type of story, Drake would have thought he was a vampire by the way his head moved along the crease above her shoulder, but this scene was in the wrong genre.

  Something happened to make Natasha jump. She tried to break away but was held captive by strong arms. Drake scowled. Sure, she was a prostitute, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t say no.

  Ugh, he was definitely going to need that drink before he went over there. From the look on the kid’s face, he didn’t think the two were going to last on the dance floor very long.

  As if on cue, Jenny, the wandering waitress, approached with his drink. Drake took the glass from her, downing the bronze liquid in one gulp.

  “Hey, can you find Paul and Tank and tell them to watch my back? I might need backup.”

  Jenny’s pleasant face creased with worry as she glanced around. “Do I need to call the cops?”

  Drake shook his head, handing her his empty glass. “Nothing that drastic and most likely nothing I can’t handle, but I left my earpiece in my office, and I want them to be prepared. Just in case.”

  “All right,” Jenny said, hastily backing away.

  “Oh, and Jenny?” Drake said. “I’m going to need another as soon as
I’m done here.”

  “You got it, Boss,” she said with a mock salute as she hurried off on her mission.

  Drake pulled in a deep breath to prepare himself and then confidently sauntered across the dance floor.

  Dragging in another breath, Drake quickly glanced around to see if Paul or Tank had received the message, and after a quick subtle nod to each of them, he tapped the kid on the shoulder.

  The kid turned with a dark, surprised look at the interruption. He looked Drake up and down, sizing him up. On closer inspection, Drake probably shouldn’t have been describing him as “kid.” He was young, there was no question about that, probably in his early twenties, but what he lacked in age he definitely made up for in size. The kid was wide. And not a “he’s kinda stocky” wide; he was built like a brick house. He could have been a linebacker. Actually, he probably was one at the local college, and if he wasn’t, he should have been. In fact, Drake was certain that Frankie probably would have loved to hire him on as some extra muscle. The kid was intimidating. Too bad Drake had too many threats in his life to worry about some punkass kid.

  Drake smirked. “May I cut in?” he asked formally, complete with a slight bow of his head. Nothing exuded as much raw confidence and nonchalance as a healthy dose of sarcasm.

  “Get lost, man,” the kid said in an alarmingly deeper voice than what Drake had imagined. He turned back to Natasha, who was jerked hard back against his body. She didn’t fight him but let herself be groped and manhandled into position. But her eyes darkened as the kid’s hands ran over her body.

  Drake could barely contain his sigh of exasperation as he tapped him again. This time the kid spun around, aggressively puffing his chest out, but Drake remained unimpressed. He glanced behind the kid to Natasha.

  “You okay, Natasha?” Drake asked, checking her over quickly.

  The kid’s deep voice growled, “She’s doing fine.”

  Drake clucked his tongue. “I don’t believe I asked you. I was talking to the lady.”

  “The lady,” the kid sneered with the word, “is doing just fine.”

  Drake kept a close eye on the kid but addressed Natasha behind him. “Are you doing ‘just fine’? Because it didn’t look like you were fine from where I was standing.”

  With the last of his words, the kid gave another one of his growls. He had tried vampire earlier, and now he was working on werewolf. The guttural sound was Drake’s only warning that the kid was making a move, and he barely moved before a fist swished past his face, almost grazing him. Then the kid’s other hand slammed on Drake’s shoulder in a crushing grip. Drake almost swore he could hear his bones grinding together, but he didn’t react on impulse. Instead, he calmly reached up and pried the kid’s middle finger up off his shoulder, and then in a quick turn, he spun around, yanking the finger up with a twist and forcing the kid to follow his movements. Before the kid knew what had happened, Drake had his arm behind his back, his finger and wrist turned so all it would take was a slight movement to snap bone.

  Holding the kid immobile, he noticed that the dance floor had cleared very suddenly. Now the only ones left standing were him, the kid, who was hunched over quivering with pain, Natasha, who was watching gleefully, and Tank and Paul, who were both approaching, chests out and arms at the ready.

  Drake caught Paul’s eye and shook his head minutely as he increased pressure on the kid’s arm and wrist. Both Paul and Tank stopped but held their position just in case something was to happen.

  Bringing his full attention back to the matter at hand, Drake brought his lips close to the kid’s ear.

  “As the owner of this establishment, I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. You ever put a hand on Natasha, me, or anyone else in my club again, we will have a problem, and next time you won’t be dealing with just me.” Drake used his chin to indicate the two massive structures staring them down a few feet away. The kid barely glanced up, but Drake was sure he was getting the message. “Now, I want you to get the hell out of my club.”

  Drake released the kid’s limb with a light shove that had him moving back a few steps before he could recover. With a last glowering look toward Drake and a hesitant glance at Paul and Tank, the kid spun around to make it toward the exit.

  “You okay, Boss?” Paul asked as the kid made his way off the dance floor.

  Drake nodded. “Follow him out, would ya, and make sure he keeps his hands to himself.”

  The men both nodded and followed the kid.

  Drake let out a quick puff of air, letting the adrenaline rush slither through his body. Now he needed that drink. Hopefully Jenny hadn’t forgotten about that part of the plan, in all the excitement.

  “Wow,” Natasha said, hands on her hips to accentuate her curves. “You just keep getting hotter and hotter.”

  “Um, thanks, I think,” Drake said. He guided Natasha to the side of the dance floor and, as cautiously and inconspicuously as possible, rolled his shoulder forward and back. Damn, that kid had a grip.

  “You can try that move on me anytime. That was hot. What other tricks do you have up your sleeve? What else have you been keeping from me?” Natasha spun around, pressing her front along Drake’s, her free arm running down his back.

  Drake rolled his eyes as he pushed her away gently before her hand could go any lower.

  “Not much, I can promise you.”

  Natasha’s teeth dented her bottom lip as she raked him over with hungry eyes. “I really doubt that.”

  “What was that all about anyway?”

  Natasha shrugged. “With that lug you get exactly what you see. I was going to make a pretty penny off of him too. He likes it rough, and I charge extra for rough.” Drake cocked an eyebrow at that.

  So, she wasn’t in trouble…. He should have known it was some sort of rape fantasy. He knew that she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

  At the look, she sighed. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, Drakeybo.”

  The seductress façade faded momentarily at that small admission, and a jaded woman stood before Drake. But the vulnerability didn’t last long before the pretense was back in place, concealing any misgivings the lady of the night may have.

  Her lips puckered as she morphed back into her provocative posture. She flipped her hair, eyeing him.

  “You finally taking me up on my offer, Drakey?” asked the spider to the fly.

  “Nothing as extravagant as that,” Drake deflected.

  She arched a brow at him and tutted. “Then what were you doing interrupting me while I was in the company of a young gentleman?”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t take too much of your time.”

  A small smile quirked her lips. “Honey, now you can take all night if you want to, but I’ll have to charge you by the hour since my meal ticket was just escorted off the premises.”

  “Listen, I wanted to see if you knew what was up or if you’ve heard of anything going on. Frankie ran outta here dragging one of my boys with him. Usually he gives me a heads-up before he takes off during club hours.”

  Natasha took a step back, contemplative. She cocked her head, looking Drake over, brow arched. Drake fidgeted under her scrutiny. It was a look he hadn’t received from her before. It was more speculative than he had anticipated. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up to her, but he figured of anyone, she was probably the safest bet.

  Natasha ran her tongue over her bottom lip, but this time it wasn’t in an act of seduction but one of deliberation. “Do you think it’s wise to ask questions?”

  Drake didn’t say anything at her inquiry. He figured it was more of a hypothetical because of course it wasn’t wise to ask questions. It wasn’t wise to let the cartel run drugs and launder money through his club, and it also wasn’t the smartest idea to try to take them down, especially since anyone who had tried before wound up dead. So, yeah, Drake took it as a hypothetical because he wasn’t in the business of doing anything wise. He waited for her
to answer his question.

  Natasha’s lips smacked and her normal flirty tilt of her hips was back. “Well, I haven’t heard any news since Willy ratted out the drug house. That made quite the little mess.”

  “Okay, I figured I would check.” Drake let out a little breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to… whatever it is that you do.” He gestured toward the dance floor, which had been slowly refilling with people since he and Natasha moved off to the side and all the fighting seemed to be over.

  “Hmm, yeah. I am sure I can scrounge up some new business.” Natasha scanned the crowd with hungry eyes.

  Drake backed away slowly. He didn’t want it to seem like he was running away, but yeah, he was making a getaway. “Well, I’ll let you get to it.”

  Natasha batted her eyelashes at him with that damn smirk of hers, and then as soon as it was there, the seductive façade was gone. Seriousness shone through her pale eyes. “Hey, Drake.” Even the teasing lilt was out of her voice.

  Drake frowned as he watched for the second time as her entire demeanor shifted before his eyes and she once again morphed back into the confident huntress she played herself out as. With an exaggerated wink, she blew a kiss at him, and then with a sashay of her hips disappeared into the crowd on the dance floor.

  Uncertain, Drake stood and watched the spot where Natasha had been standing. That had been weird.

  Everything about the exchange, from Natasha needing a rescue to the final words that had seemed almost like a warning, was strange. He flipped back through his mind, going over all the occasions he could think of when he had interacted with Natasha. Generally, it had been a quick exchange packed full of flirting and ignored invitations but usually not anything serious. Something about her wasn’t panning out.

  Or he was looking further into it than he should have been. There had to be more to her than thoughts of money and sex.

  Dismissing the notion, at least for the time being, he headed toward the bar. There were a few people standing around it, but for the most part, it was empty. Even so, Scotty moved around the small area as if they had a large crowd. He pulled a beer from the tap, wiped the counter, pocketed tips, and refilled the condiment trays with ease and a content smile.