by Josie Kerr
Junior got in Bailey’s space. “What exactly did she text, Bailey?”
“That she was running late. Just the usual stuff. That she had an errand to run and then she had to book.”
“Do you still have the message? Let me see your phone.”
“Junior, what is going on?”
“Let me see your goddamn phone, Bailey!” Junior snatched the phone out her hand and scrolled through the messages.
Got caught up. Need to do something about the book.
Colin put his phone up to his ear, and Junior grabbed Bailey’s shoulders. “What did she say when she called? What were her exact words?”
“She said she was feeling ill and she was going to stay at Junior’s and relax with a good book.” Bailey squirmed away from Junior. “Junior, stop. You’re hurting me.”
Junior dropped his hands and turned to Colin. “They’ve got her. We gotta go, C.”
Colin grabbed Junior, holding him back. “Johnny’s on the way to your apartment. Let him handle this.”
“Like fuck I will!”
“What the fuck is going on?” Dig roared. “Has something happened to Nanda?”
“This is none of your concern, Dig. Just stay out of it.”
“Does this have something to do with that fucking Gene guy? What?”
Junior quickly recapped the week’s events for Dig, growing more and more agitated by the minute.
Dig turned to Colin. “Fuck you, C. Let’s go, Junior. You have the keys to the van?”
Junior’s jaw set. “Yep.”
“Then, let’s go.”
Dig pushed through the crowd, and Junior followed closely behind.
Chapter Forty-one
Nick Sharkey sat across from her, a piece of pizza in one hand and a gun in the other. “You know, I never really got why Gene was so into you,” he said through a mouth full of food.
The man from the grocery store stood behind Nanda, stroking the back of her neck, his fingers lingering on her hairline. Nanda sat completely still, her body tense.
“Apparently she gives great head,” he said. “Doesn’t have a gag reflex.”
“That’s a very interesting little tidbit to know, Grillo.” Grillo’s grip tightened on the back of Nanda’s neck as Sharkey leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “Do you like swallowing cock, Fernanda?”
She didn’t say a word, just silently prayed that Junior would figure out her code before he came home and got hurt.
Nanda had just pulled the door shut to the apartment when Sharkey and the thug from the grocery store, Matt Grillo, came up behind her, crowding her, forcing her back into the apartment. Sharkey had told her to text whoever she was going to see to tell them she would be late, so Nanda had, counting on Junior to be his usually overbearing self and demanding to look at the message.
When Bailey had called to check on her, Nanda had given her the excuse that she wasn’t feeling well, again mentioning the apartment and the book, hoping that someone would clue in to her predicament.
Nanda gasped when Grillo’s hand tightened on her neck. “What? I’m sorry, what?”
“I asked if you liked swallowing cock, Fernanda?” He leaned forward, leering at her. “I wonder if you could handle a real man’s dick, if you could take it down your throat and swallow everything he gave or if you would just end up crying like a little bitch.” Sharkey stroked her cheek with a finger, tracing the path of the errant tear that leaked out of the corner of her eye. “Hmm.”
Grillo cleared his throat. “Nick, I think we might be getting off track.”
Sharkey stood up. “Yes, there’ll be time enough for playing after. Nanda, Gene told us you have the book he . . . liberated from Fiore’s office. Now, how about you hand the book over, and then we’ll finish our business.”
“For the last time, I do not have that book!”
Sharkey sighed and nodded at Grillo. Grillo used his vise grip on Nanda’s neck to force her face upward.
“You have such pretty skin. Pretty, pretty skin. And a pretty mouth. I bet it marks up real pretty.” He ran a finger over her lip and pushed it inside her mouth.
Nanda bit down as hard as she could. Grillo screamed and slammed his other hand against her cheek.
“You stupid bitch!”
He slapped her again and grabbed a fistful of hair. “Where’s Fiore’s book?”
“I don’t have it!” she ground out, and he slapped her again.
“Where’s Fiore’s book?”
“I. Don’t. Have. It.”
Her spat response earned her another openhanded slap, this one splitting her lip.
Grillo still had a hold on her hair. “We done here, Nick? I don’t think this bitch knows anything.”
Sharkey dusted crumbs off his hands and stood up. “We’re done. Since she doesn’t want to say anything anyway, you might as well shut her up for good.”
Grillo clucked his tongue as he pulled Nanda’s head back to look into her eyes. “Such a waste.”
“I said I didn’t have the book, not that I didn’t know where the book was or what was in it.”
Sharkey turned around. “What did you say?”
“I turned it in to the police. The police have it.”
“Which police?”
“Atlanta.” Nanda licked her lips, frantically devising a plan. “But I know what’s in it. It’s in code.”
Sharkey looked interested and motioned for her to go on.
“I don’t know the code for sure, but I can figure it out, at least some of it. I have a photographic memory.”
“Prove it.”
Nanda rattled off Grillo’s license plate number and a host of other miscellaneous information that no one who didn’t have an eidetic memory would recall.
Sharkey scratched his chin and seemed to come to a decision.
“Let’s go.” He stood up and made his way to the door.
“Nick, what are —”
“Come on. Bring her. I don’t want to stick around here in case that brother of hers shows up.”
Nanda felt a sharp prick of pain and was shocked when her arm started bleeding.
“Don’t make me use it, honey. Nick doesn’t like to get blood on the upholstery.”
Sharkey and Grillo hustled Nanda down the hallway of the shabby extended-stay hotel, Grillo gripping her arm so tightly that she could feel it growing numb. The hold the thug had her in, coupled with the prick of the knife in her side, convinced Nanda of the futility of trying to make a run for it.
Sharkey fumbled with the keycard. He muttered under his breath, but just when Nanda decided that she could possibly make a dash for it, Grillo leaned down and whispered in her ear.
“Don’t even fucking think about it.” He pressed the knife ever so slightly into her side for emphasis.
The door across the hall opened, and Nanda’s eyes widened at the big, tattooed man who emerged. The man’s eyes glossed over her and then rested first on Sharkey, who was still attempting to open the door, and then on Grillo, who met his gaze with a knowing smirk.
The tattooed man nodded at Grillo and made his way down the hall with a “Have fun, y’all” before he disappeared down the stairwell.
Grillo ran the knife’s point down Nanda’s cheek. “Oh, I’m planning on it.” His eyes darted over to Sharkey. “Nicky, man, the key’s upside down.”
Sharkey looked confused, and Grillo loosened his hold on Nanda for a split second. Nanda attempted to escape, only to have Grillo catch her by the arm, pulling her so hard that Nanda thought her shoulder was pulled out of its socket.
“I’m beginning to lose patience with you, Nanda,” Grillo growled in her ear after he slammed her up against the wall so hard her vision sparked black for a brief moment. “Fuckin’ A, Sharkey, you gotta be smarter than the goddamn door.”
The light on the door turned green, and then they heard the lock snick. Sharkey went into the hotel room, and Grillo half pushed, h
alf pulled Nanda inside after him.
“Man, this place is a fuckin’ dump, Grillo.” Sharkey surveyed the room. “But it’ll do. Nanda, sit your sweet ass down, babe.”
When Nanda balked at his instructions, Sharkey jerked his head at Grillo, and the second man forcibly threw Nanda into the chair. Grillo stood behind her and wrapped his hand around her neck.
The memory of Grillo on top of her, his silk tie wrapped around her neck, made her skin crawl and her stomach clench. Nanda squeezed her eyes shut, hoping desperately that Damon Pierce had recognized her and realized that she was under duress.
“Hey, I’m talking to you!” The punch to her breast forced Nanda to open her eyes and redirect her attention to the now impatient mobster sitting in front of her. Sharkey shoved a pen and piece of paper across the mottled tabletop.
Nanda watched Sharkey shift in his seat to lean his elbows on his knees. Her eyes were riveted on the gun in his hand.
“So. Show us what you know.”
Chapter Forty-two
Junior and Dig met Pierce at the edge of the parking lot of a shabby hotel not far from Junior’s apartment after Pierce had called Ryan and said he’d seen Nanda in the hallway with two men.
After recognizing Nanda, Pierce had returned to his room to keep an eye on the room he had seen Nanda and the two men disappear into.
“Do they have weapons?” Dig fidgeted, wanting to go into the room and lay waste to whatever scumbags had essentially kidnapped Nanda.
Pierce shrugged. “I didn’t see any, but I would assume so. Guys like that always have something on them.”
A woman’s shriek filtered through the air.
“That’s Nanda!” Not waiting for Johnny like they had talked about on the way to the hotel, Dig ran toward the squat building. “What room, Pierce?”
Pierce and Junior looked at one another and ran to catch up with Dig.
Dig pulled the side door open and was frantically looking around the hallway and listening hard for Nanda. Pierce and Junior both skidded to a halt when they saw Dig standing in the hallway.
“What room?” Dig asked again. “I swear to God, Pierce, I’ll kick your ass into next week if you don’t tell me what fucking room she’s in.”
Pierce pointed at the door that he had seen Sharkey trying to open.
Suddenly the door to the interior lobby opened. The three men locked eyes with a maid pushing a heavy cart full of towels and cleaning supplies. She got ready to back out of the hallway, but Junior intercepted her and spoke rapidly in Spanish. She handed him the passkey. Junior nodded at Dig and Pierce, communicating silently with them, and then sent the housekeeper on her way.
Junior knocked rapidly on the door and announced, “Housekeeping,” and then pushed his way into the room, Dig and Pierce following closely behind him.
The three halted as soon as they got into the room, once they saw Nanda and her two captors.
One of the men had a knife pressed tightly to Nanda’s neck, the other sat calmly in one of the two chairs in the dingy hotel room, the hand on his knee loosely holding a gun.
Dig’s temper flared when he saw a livid bruise forming on Nanda’s pretty face, and he began to rush toward her.
“Stop, Dig! What are you doing here? Junior?” Nanda looked frantically at each of the fighters’ faces.
Sharkey pointed his gun at Junior. “Oh, well, if it isn’t Big Brother Maldonado rushing to Baby Sister’s aid, as usual.” He cocked his head to the side, and a slow, mean smile spread across his face. “You’re the one. You put him in the hospital. Thank you for making our jobs easier, Maldonado.”
“Junior, what did you do?” Nanda whispered.
“He’s fine. I dropped him off at the hospital after we finished our chat.”
“I wouldn’t say he’s fine. He was having a little problem breathing when we stopped by to check on him.”
Junior paled. “No . . .”
Sharkey just shrugged, but Grillo shoved the knife harder into Nanda’s throat. A single drop of blood welled from the nearly imperceptible wound.
“Enough catching up. You gonna tell us what’s in the book or not?” Sharkey stood and raised his gun.
Nanda sobbed while she wrote and begged for Sharkey and Grillo to let Junior and Dig go. Grillo raised his hand back and hit her again, this time with his fist.
Nanda slumped back in the chair as Junior dove toward her. He shoved Grillo out of the way, but Sharkey calmly pointed his gun toward Junior and squeezed the trigger.
Nanda, pretending to be knocked out, realized a few seconds too late what Sharkey’s intentions were. She kicked at him with both feet, throwing his aim and balance off.
Unfortunately for Nanda, Grillo had recovered. He stepped up to her, pulled her by her hair, and repositioned the knife at her throat.
“You fucking bastard, you shot my brother! I’m going to kill you if he dies!” Nanda thrashed even though she could feel the sharp edge of Grillo’s blade.
“You stupid bitch. You were lying to us the whole time, weren’t you, you cunt?!” Grillo roared, slugging her, using the hilt of the knife as an impromptu pair of brass knuckles.
Nanda spit out a tooth and a gob of blood. “I told you I didn’t know the code, but I could probably figure it out . . .”
Sharkey walked up to Nanda and put his gun in her mouth, his eyes wild and desperate. “God, just shut the fuck up. You don’t have anything worthwhile to say, do you? Stupid bitch. Just shut up!”
A shot rang out, and the room erupted into chaos.
Sharkey dropped on top of Nanda, his gun falling out of his hand. The shock of his weight on top of her stunned her speechless for ten seconds, and then she started screaming as police in riot gear swarmed through the door. Dig dove toward Nanda and began pulling Sharkey’s unconscious body off of her, and Pierce scrambled toward the sliding patio door to prevent Grillo from escaping.
“Junior’s shot! He’s shot and bleeding!” Nanda sobbed and screamed as she struggled to move Sharkey’s body. “Please, he’s been shot!”
The loud squawks of the police radios and the voices of the police themselves quieted when the loud clash of breaking glass sounded through the hotel room as Dig tackled Grillo and sent him flying through the patio door.
For a moment, everyone was completely, utterly still. And then the policemen burst into action, moving to restrain both Sharkey and Grillo.
“Junior,” Nanda cried as she scrambled over the bleeding Sharkey, kneeing him in the balls for good measure, to get to her brother. “Junior!”
Junior grinned up at her, but when he tried to move, the usually stoic fighter yelped in pain. “Fuck.”
Nanda slid nearer to him, holding him close and petting his head. “Junior, you’re going to be all right.”
Junior grimaced. “I know I am. But fuck me, I’m going to have to go back to rehab. I fucking hate rehab.” He sucked a pained breath in when he tried to sit up. “Goddamn.”
Nanda looked around dazedly until her eyes rested on Dig, who sat near her but not next to her. “Dom, are you okay?” She motioned him over to her other side.
Dig grinned and went to her, sliding down the wall and slipping his arm around her shoulders. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you okay?”
She nodded. Dig touched the rapidly purpling bruises on her face. “That fuck hit you.”
Nanda shrugged. “Yeah.” Dig kissed her bruises, and then he leaned his forehead against hers.
Junior grunted. “Is there some sort of hanky-panky going on between you two?”
Several EMTs arrived then and cut Junior’s interrogation short by giving him some painkillers and bundling him onto a stretcher.
“You and I are going to have a serious talk when I wake up, manita,” he slurred. “And that goes double for you, Dig.”
Nanda and Dig held each other and chuckled while the EMT checked Nanda out.
“Sorry to disturb you, but I
think that . . .” Pierce stumbled and leaned facing the wall. When he turned around, a bright red stain smeared the wall where he once stood.
Dig leapt up. “Whoa, shit. He’s been stabbed.”
Pierce leaned against Dig. “Yeah, that fuck was a lot quicker with the knife than I expected him to be.” His knees buckled, and the EMTs pulled the stretcher meant for Nanda next to Pierce and forced him to lie down.
The EMT took Pierce to the hospital after extracting a promise from Nanda that she’d come in and get checked out. Johnny, who had shown up shortly after the SWAT team had, said that he’d take Dig and Nanda to the hospital.
Dig and Nanda got into the backseat of the squad car, and Dig pulled Nanda against him, cradling her tightly against his chest.
His touch released the first tears she had shed through this entire ordeal. He held her while she sobbed, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb, until they got to the hospital and he had to let her go long enough for her to get checked out.
Chapter Forty-three
Nanda got checked out by a kind ER doctor who ignored her agitation and bad behavior because she knew that Nanda’s brother had been brought in with a gunshot wound earlier.
Colin and Ryan were both in the waiting area when Dig and Nanda arrived from the ER triage, and now they all waited for Junior to get out of surgery. Nanda leaned her head against Dig’s shoulder and tried not to doze.
“So . . .” Colin squinted at the two of them. “I take it you two are a thing?”
Nanda and Dig looked at each other. “Are we a thing?” Dig asked.
“I think we’re probably a thing,” Nanda answered, a small smile playing across her lips.
“They’re a thing,” Ryan piped up. “Most definitely.” He rolled his eyes and grumbled about people being oblivious.
“Does your brother know?”
Nanda rubbed her hand over her face. “Yeah, the last thing he did before he passed out from the painkillers was threaten to have a ‘big talk’ with me, and a double one with Dig.”
Colin barked a laugh. “Oh man,” he chuckled. “Well, congratulations. Enjoy it until Junior’s able to kick your ass.”