Paid Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 3)

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Paid Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 3) Page 50

by Morgan Kelley


  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Pink Kitty

  W hen they got to the strip club, the place was busy. Not that it was odd, since this was Vegas and no one slept there. The oddest people came out at night, and they leached over into the daylight hours too.

  Since they had a packed parking lot, Chris dropped the Crofts off at the door. There was no way he was letting them walk across the lot with Dimitri’s sicko brother taking shots at people.

  Once he parked, he hustled toward the building to join them.

  Inside, he found Emma and Greyson in a booth, and in true Croft fashion, the king was with his queen. Emma was sitting in Greyson’s lap, and he was smiling.

  Chris was glad.

  He was thinking about Natasha and what she’d said. He only hoped Greyson wasn’t thinking he was poaching his woman.

  While Chris loved Emma, and at one time had lusted after her, he knew they could never be more than what they were. He was crazy about Natasha, and he couldn’t wait to buy her ring. The way the two of them cuddled made him realize that it was definitely time.

  He took a seat.

  “Do you see him?” he asked, knowing who they were scoping out.

  “No,” Emma said, scanning the room. “I don’t see him.”

  Greyson smiled. “Ten o’clock, we have another bouncer. Let’s ask him.”

  Emma waved at him.

  “Yes, ma’am?” he asked.

  “Hey! I’m looking for Roscoe. He said next time we were in, he’d hook us up with a great girl.”

  The man shrugged. “I’m sorry, but he’s late for his shift. I swear, if I have to work a double for him, I’ll beat his face in. Eight hours in here is plenty.”

  She smiled. “That’s too bad, but thank you.”

  As he strolled away, Emma sent Dimitri a text.

  ‘Find me anything you can on Roscoe McKinney.’

  Emma waited for the reply.

  ‘Give me ten.’

  “Dimitri is searching him. Maybe we should ask around,” she said.

  Chris waved over a girl wearing glitter. Before he could stop her, she was perched in his lap and rubbing against him.

  Well, shit.

  This was worse.

  He’d rather Emma rubbing his junk any day. This could get his ass dumped or some raging infection. How the hell was he going to explain that?

  “What do you need, sweet thing?” she asked, nibbling on his ear.

  Emma was almost tempted to drag this out. Chris looked incredibly uncomfortable, and she was enjoying herself.

  Sue her.

  It was a brother thing.

  “Emma, I’ll kick your ass,” he muttered, knowing what she was doing. “Hurry up!”

  She snickered.

  “Kitten,” Greyson warned.

  “Okay! Is Roscoe here?” she asked.

  “I haven’t seen him yet today. He normally works the morning shift,” she offered.

  “What do you know about him?”

  “Other than he’s handsy, and if he can get a free blowjob, he’s in his glory.”

  Well, that seemed to line up with what they knew to be true.

  “Did you see him around this girl?”

  She held up her phone.

  “Oh yeah, he and his old lady loved that piece of ass. She stripped here for a while, but I heard him tell her that she had better things coming once she was trained.”

  Well, it looked like they’d hit pay dirt.

  “Your name? Don’t give me the stripper one,” Emma warned.

  “It’s Ari Buchannon, ma’am.”

  Greyson handed her a one hundred.

  “If you really get that glitter all over him, I’ll give you one hundred more.”

  Chris sputtered as she rubbed her body across his, leaving a trail of sparkles.

  He paid her.

  “Christ, Grey! Come on! What did I do to you?” he asked, trying to furiously brush it off his clothes.

  “You always tease me about making out with my kitten, you ambushed me and practically hog tied me to my bed in our sex room, and I had to watch you to cuddling on the news.”

  “Well, when you put it that way,” he said, grinning.

  Greyson gave him a fist bump. “You amuse me, Chris. You amuse me.”

  “When the two of you are done fighting over the rights to make out with me, maybe we can focus on what she said?”

  “He’s a perv. That’s a given,” Chris offered.

  “No, the other part. She said he and his old lady. Well, who is that?” Emma asked.

  Greyson signaled to Ari, and she was back, this time topless.

  “I will shave you bald in your sleep,” Chris warned. “I am NOT kidding.”

  Emma closed her mouth.

  Greyson, while amused, wanted answers. “Here’s one hundred more if you can tell me who his old lady is.”

  She smiled. “Will you put it in my G-String?” she asked.

  “Will his wife cut you in the back alley and feed you to some feral cats?” Emma asked.

  The woman swallowed. “I get it.”

  “Good.”

  “He was shacked up with the hag at the bar. She was into some shade,” Ari stated. “She had him by the balls, but I think he liked it. He was into some serious kink. He once wanted me to let him wrap me in plastic wrap so he could sleep with me under his bed.”

  Greyson lifted a brow. “Uh, that’s a new one.”

  “Now, for you,” she said, sitting back in Chris’s lap, “I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

  He sighed.

  Emma had to think about the woman. “Rosemary?” she asked, finally pulling her name out of her exhausted, pregnant mind.

  “Yeah, they do everything together. They come to work together, they eat lunch together, and I even caught them going at it. It was NOT pretty.”

  PAYDIRT.

  “Thank you, Ari,” Greyson said, handing her a card from ‘Aquarius’ along with the money. “If you ever want out, come there.”

  She tucked it into her hair, since she was topless and wearing only a thong.

  When she was gone, Chris stared down. “You two are assholes,” he said.

  Emma laughed.

  Greyson shrugged. “That was for trying to mess with me. IMAGINE if you actually did cross the line.”

  Emma snorted and had to wipe her eyes.

  “Seriously. A total asshole. I have stripper all over me. Natasha is going to shit a brick.”

  “Why?” Greyson asked.

  Emma knew what he was worried about. “I was right, wasn’t I?” she asked.

  “Yeah, you were.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Greyson was confused. “What?”

  “Natasha is uncomfortable with Emma and my relationship,” Chris said. “Are you?”

  He laughed. “Hell no. I know my wife loves me. I don’t need to be jealous.”

  Chris pointed at the glitter across his lap.

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t retaliate, but I’m not jealous. I know who Emma loves, and I accept it.”

  Emma saw the bartender. It wasn’t the one they wanted, but she’d talk to him anyway.

  “Can you text Dimitri to get me anything on Rosemary Harrington?” she asked.

  He took her phone.

  “Sure thing.”

  Emma headed off.

  At the bar, she handed him a twenty. “Can I have a bottle of water?” she asked.

  He handed it to her.

  “Keep the change.”

  “You’re that mob man’s wife, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I am. I’m Emma.”

  She offered him her hand.

  “Gus,” he said, shaking hers. “What do you need? I can’t imagine you guys like being in here. You don’t seem like the swinger kind of couple.”

  She laughed.

  Yeah, he had NO idea. That mere idea would freak the hell out of Greyson.

  “Where’s Rosemary?” she asked
, trying to be cool about it. The last thing she needed was to alert him.

  “She’s not in until later. We switched shifts for today. She said something about an appointment.”

  Emma smiled and thanked him.

  “Have a good day, Gus.”

  “You too, Mrs. Croft.”

  When she got back to the table, there were two strippers shaking their asses a little too close to Greyson and Chris. When she pointed, they took off.

  Greyson laughed. “We were just about to get the mob discount,” he teased.

  She took a seat.

  “You realize I could give you the mob discount.”

  “Really?” he asked. “I’m intrigued.”

  “It’s no sex this whole pregnancy.”

  Chris laughed.

  Before Greyson could make a comment, her phone rang.

  “Yeah, Dimitri, what did you get?”

  “I ran both names. Rosemary Harrington is her real name, and she owns that club. It was buried under an LLC, but she didn’t bury it deep enough.”

  “Okay, and what else?”

  “Roscoe McKinney doesn’t exist. I couldn’t find him anywhere on this FBI tablet, and that includes the IRS database. That being said, guess who is partner in owning ‘The Pink Kitty’?” he asked.

  “Louis Mateo?” Emma asked.

  “How did you know?” he asked. “I thought I’d surprise you with my skills,” he said.

  “Stephanie saw Julie.”

  She told him everything, having to shout over the loud music. The only reason they were staying there was it was safer inside where there were no windows.

  “Did she?”

  “Yeah,” Emma said. “She called him Louis, and that gave us the heads up.”

  Dimitri laughed. “So, we found them. We did what the Feds couldn’t do. We tied the two people to the sex ring.”

  “It looks like.”

  Greyson knew he was supposed to call the FBI to handle it from here on out, but this was Vegas. Justice was a little different when you didn’t have a badge.

  “I say we head to his house, and we shake him up a little before we hand him over. He might give us information on Viktor.”

  Emma liked the way he thought.

  “I’m in,” she said.

  Chris pointed at them. “I’m wherever you two are.”

  That was good enough for them.

  “Do you have a home address?” Emma asked.

  “Nope. You’re going to have to get it. There’s only post office boxes listed. Like I said, they tried to bury this little front of theirs. Why didn’t the FBI find it?”

  Emma laughed. “They’d have to sit in a strip club and get their glitter on. Had they, they might have pulled it off.”

  Chris pointed at her. “Don’t tell him anything!”

  She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “I’ll keep looking, but you might have to pull this one out of the interesting characters there.”

  Greyson knew how.

  He stopped the next stripper. “Pass it on to your friends. If anyone can tell me where to find Roscoe, preferably at his home, I’ll give them three hundred bucks cash. Now.”

  She took off.

  “Wait for it,” he said.

  A stripper headed his way. She had a napkin with an address on it. He held up both hands, one with the cash, she palmed the cash, giving him the napkin, and she was gone.

  “Got it,” Emma said.

  “That was fast,” Dimitri stated.

  “Greyson has a way with the ladies,” she said. “Run this address.”

  She read it off.

  “It’s owned by a Louis Harrington and Rosemary Mateo.”

  She grinned wickedly.

  “And that’s a wrap.”

  Yeah, it had been an easy one.

  “I swear, the FBI has gone downhill since you left,” Emma stated. “They should have run a combo of their names. Paris and Tessa would have.”

  He was well aware.

  “Can we blow this place? I feel like I’m being watched,” Chris said.

  Emma laughed. “You are. There are five strippers checking out your ass.”

  Chris picked up the pace as they headed out. He blocked their body from the media and anyone else he couldn’t see. He was scanning the area, looking for anything out of place.

  At their ride, they hopped in.

  “Let’s drop in on the happy couple, shall we?” Emma offered.

  “Yeah, let’s.”

  If this panned out, they could pass it off to Ethan Blackhawk, call it a job, and focus on their huge issue.

  Viktor Marchenko.

  And his need for revenge.

  * * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *

  Outside the club, he watched them. They parked four rows away, and beside a building.

  It had been perfect.

  It made it easier to climb beneath the vehicle so he could do his thing.

  He wanted to know where they were at all times, and this would help.

  Then, when he’d picked his first target, he’d make his move.

  Dimitri wouldn’t see it coming.

  And that was the best part of his plan.

  * * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *

  Terrace Glen

  Dimitri was at the kitchen counter making Sam something for breakfast when their housekeeper headed their way. In her hand was an envelope.

  “Mr. Gideon, this came for you.”

  “Thank you, Magda.”

  When she was gone, he felt the package, wary of what it could possibly be.

  It felt like papers, and he was willing to take a risk.

  Opening it, he pulled out the packet and read the first page. His heart skipped.

  They were Sam’s adoption papers.

  The first thing he thought about was his life, what he was facing down with his brother, and if it was fair to put Sam in the crosshairs. If Viktor found out about the boy, he’d be gunning for him too.

  Did Dimitri want that?

  “You’ve changed your mind, haven’t you?” Sam asked, from the doorway.

  It caught him off guard.

  “What?”

  “I’ve seen that look before,” the boy said, entering the kitchen to take a seat. “The family that had the baby—they got that same packet, and she held them the same way as you are as she read them. They changed their mind and didn’t want me. You’d think if you did, you’d be smiling and happy. It’s a dead giveaway, Dimitri.”

  He dropped the dad, and it wasn’t lost on Dimitri the boy expected him to break his heart.

  “Sam.”

  “It’s okay. I get it. No one ever wants me. I’m damaged. People only fall in love with people who are perfect. I have a huge hole in me, and it’s never going away. It’s where my family would have been.”

  He’d said that to Emma.

  Maybe, he’d been looking to fill that hole with a woman, and instead, this was his sign.

  He could fill it with unconditional love of a child.

  “I always wonder why I was born. No one has ever wanted me. I knew this place was too good to be real. I’ll go pack. Got a trash bag that I can put my things in?”

  That broke his heart. No child should have to pack their things in a garbage bag. It gave a negative connotation right off the bat.

  Dimitri couldn’t lie to him.

  “I am concerned with adopting you.”

  His blue eyes filled with tears. “I know.”

  “I need to tell you some things first, and then YOU decide if you want me. I do want you, Sam, but this has to be your choice.”

  “What kind of things?”

  He sat beside him at the counter.

  “My brother is trying to kill me. His name is Viktor Marchenko, and he’s a very bad man.”

  “Seriously?”

  “If you don’t believe me, you can ask Curtis. That shot was meant for Katerina. He’s coming after anyone who is mine. He wants us to pay, and if
I adopt you, you’re in danger.”

  “Again, you don’t want me.”

  “No, I want you so much. I just…”

  He what?

  “You want to protect me?” he asked.

  “Yes. If you get hurt…”

  “I’ve already been hurt,” he said, staring at him. He raised his casted arm. “I’ve been broken. What could possibly happen?”

  “He could kill you.”

  “So, I can die with a dad and family, or live a long time alone? Those are my two choices?”

  Well, when he put it that way…

  “Then I choose you, and I’d choose you every time. You’re supposed to be my dad. I know it. I could have picked Emma, or Paris. I wanted you. You get me. I know you’ll always get me.”

  Tears filled his eyes.

  “Please choose me,” he said. “It won’t work if only one of us wants the other.”

  And there it was.

  That was his whole mess with Marissa. It didn’t work not because of him, but because of her. She hadn’t wanted him like he wanted her.

  From the mouths of babes.

  Dimitri pulled the pen from his pocket and handed it to Sam. He pointed at the spot.

  Sam began to print his name.

  “Make it official, son.”

  “Can I pick a middle name? I don’t have one,” Sam asked. “No one ever gave me one.”

  “Yes, you can pick one,” he offered. “This is who you’ll be from here on out.”

  Sam looked at him. “What’s your middle name?” he asked.

  “I don’t have one. When I gave us all new names, I didn’t think to give myself one.”

  “What’s your real name?”

  “Maximillian Marchenko.”

  He focused on the paper and went with it.

  ‘Samuel Maximillian Gideon’

  Dimitri watched, and suddenly, the hole in his life didn’t seem so damn big anymore. It was filled with the sweetness of this small child.

  The tears came.

  He wiped his eyes.

  Sam handed the pen back to him.

  “I wanted to have your name too. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

 

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