Yeah... I just drugged Andrea.
With a Goody's Headache Powder. We decided that we needed to go through every scene of this act we had planned out, as there were cameras all over the club. In the off chance Simon was watching, I "drugged" her drink.
After putting on a loose t-shirt, Andrea pulls her hair up into a ponytail and walks over to her soda. She picks the cup up and drinks it down, pausing only once for a breath.
"Damn... I get so thirsty after dancing," she quips and wipes her mouth.
"I imagine... it's quite the aerobic workout," I say distractedly while I partition the cash before me. Picking up the pile that represents her cut, I hand it to her. "Listen... Simon wants you to dance at a private after-hours party. It will be big money. That cool?"
As per our intended plan, Andrea looks at her watch and puts on her most-tortured look. "Damn, Raze... I'm so tired. Seriously, he wants me to go dance right now?"
"Yeah," I say, and add on. "He'll pay you a thousand dollars for a few hours of your time. And you can keep all tips. It's for some important business associates of his."
Andrea has become quite the actress and if anyone is watching on camera, they'd probably catch the greedy sparkle in her eye. "Well, shit... I can't pass that up," she says enthusiastically with a big grin. "I'm in."
"Good deal," I say, leading her back into the main club area. "Simon wants us to wait in his office. He's wrapping up a few things, and then we'll all ride over there together."
Part one of our ruse is underway.
I keep careful watch on the clock once we get to Simon's office, as does Andrea. Just as we discussed last night, she alters her behavior... becoming more casually relaxed, giggling at times, and even dancing around the office a bit with nervous excitement for the after-hours party. She keeps up a running dialogue, sounding slightly tipsy, definitely losing all of her inhibitions.
When Simon walks into the office a little over an hour later, Andrea is in perfect form. She even bounces up to Simon, wraps her arms around his neck, and kisses him on the cheek. "Thank you so much for this opportunity, Simon. You're the best boss ever."
She quickly releases him and trots back over toward me, doing a few dance moves along the way. Simon watches her in bemusement and when her back is turned, he gives me a thumbs-up sign. He's duly impressed I've given her a drug that is having a much better effect than whatever they shot Carla up with.
"Let's go," Simon says.
"Grab my bag," Andrea tells me as she practically skips toward the door. "All my best dance outfits are in there."
I give Simon a little smirk, which he returns, and we both share in a greedy and evil look between us.
Simon tosses me his keys. "You drive."
I nod and walk quickly toward Andrea, taking her by the arm and steering her toward the front passenger seat of Simon's BMW 760i.
"Put her in the back with me," Simon says, and my stomach clenches tight. Simon is on the opposite side of the car, and I give him a short nod before he's disappearing inside. I take the moment to turn and look at Andrea. Her eyes are shining back at me with confidence, and she gives me a tiny smile. She's telling me it's fine. She can handle herself.
I'm not sure if I'll be able to handle this, though. Not if that fucker does anything to her.
I get in the driver's seat as Andrea hops in back with Simon. I start the engine and say, "Where to, boss?"
"Head over to 8th and Devine," he says, and a quick glance in the rearview mirror shows me he's looking down at his smartphone.
Warehouse district, I think to myself. Block after block of abandoned buildings, dirty streets, and dark alleys. Perfect place for a kidnapping to occur.
While I drive, Andrea keeps up a running chatter, sounding perfectly buzzed on the supposed drug I dosed her with.
I'm going to dance my ass of, just wait and see.
Oooh, I hope I make enough in tips to get a small microwave for my apartment.
I'm going to be so tired tomorrow, but this will be worth it.
Simon ignores her, working over his phone, but his lips curve up in a smirk. He thinks this is hilarious. He's taking a woman off to her doom and her running banter amuses him.
Andrea never looks at me once in the mirror, and her chatter starts to die down. Her head lolls back onto the seat and she mutters, "I'm a little tired. I'll nap on the way there."
Simon glances over at her, reaches an arm out, and curls his hand around the back of her neck. Pulling her toward him, he pushes her head down and she's gone from my line of sight. "Just rest your head on my lap, baby."
My fingers curl into the steering wheel so hard, I'm afraid they'll break from the tension. He's got fucking Andrea's head on his lap... probably nestled up against his dick... and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.
Simon goes back to messing with his phone, and I breathe a little easier. Looks like he has more important things to do than fucking around with a drugged stripper.
Another ten minutes and I turn onto Devine Street. Just when I hit the intersection with 8th, Simon reaches over my shoulder and points. "Pull into that alleyway on the right."
I make a slow turn and creep the Beamer down the dark alley that runs back a couple of hundred feet past an old warehouse. At the back corner of the building, it expands into a small parking lot surrounded by the backs of other buildings. There are two tall light posts on opposite corners of the lot, but the lights on one are burned out completely. There's a black Mercedes G500 parked under the burned-out lamp, so I pull the car over there and park a few spaces away. However, I pull the car in perpendicular so the headlights of Simon's car illuminate the area.
When I put the car in park, I turn around to look at Simon in the backseat. "How do you want to play this out?" I ask.
"She's out cold so pop the trunk. Roll the window down. Stay in here until I get the money, then I'll tell you when to bring her out."
Relief courses through me that Simon didn't pull Andrea out with him. It was a brilliant idea of hers to fake being passed out from the drug.
"Sure thing, Simon," I say and roll down the window.
He gets out of the car and at the same time, I see the driver's side doors open in sync on the Mercedes. A huge, beefy guy gets out from behind the wheel. I don't see any obvious gun on him, but that doesn't mean he's not packing. From the backseat emerges a tall, slender guy of about fifty years old. He has thinning, blond hair, pale skin, and a hawk-like nose. He's dressed in an expensive suit, which he buttons the jacket on as soon as both feet on are on the pavement.
I do a quick scan of the area and hope to hell that Mike has his team setting up right now. There's the alley that leads back out to Devine that's open, and one other alley off the west side of the parking lot. My guess is they'll be coming in from that way, as it's closest to our vehicles and completely dark, but I'd bet money they have undercover cars parked right out on Devine as well.
The buyer reaches into the backseat of the Mercedes and pulls out a small, leather satchel. Simon walks up to them, they do a short handshake, and Simon takes the satchel. I watch as he opens it, counts through the cash that's in there, and then turns to me.
"Bring her out, Raze."
Simon and the buyer talk quietly, the big driver standing with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning back against the front fender. This tells me that they don't expect anything but a nice, easy transfer of goods.
I get out of the car and open the back door. Andrea has rolled to her side and is leaning away from the backseat a bit. I notice she's tucked her baggy t-shirt into the back of her jeans. Her eyes are open, and I give her a short nod of my head.
Leaning my entire upper body into the car, I say, "Come on, Nikki. Time to get up."
Andrea deftly slips her hand under the front of my own t-shirt and pulls her Glock out of my waistband. My own gun is tucked securely in the back of my jeans.
My body is completely shielding Andrea from their sight, so
I say a bit louder while leaning further into the car. "Come on, Nikki. Wake the fuck up."
As I'm leaning in, further hiding Andrea from their line of site, she tucks her Glock into the back waistband of her own jeans. The minute it's secure, I slide my hands under her armpits and start pulling her out of the car. She looks like dead weight in my arms, and her head lolls to the side. When I pull her free, I loop a forearm under her breasts to hold her up... her back is to my front, hiding the gun, and when I pull her free of the door, I turn her toward the men. Reaching up with my other hand, I lightly slap at her face.
"Wake up, Nikki. Time to dance, darlin'." I turn, giving a smirk and a wink to the men, and they grin back cheesily at me. I think I see the buyer lick his lips as his eyes run down Andrea's body, who is now coming awake. She lifts her head, blinks with bleary eyes, and then stands uneasily. I release my hold around her ribcage and take her by the arm. Standing beside her, I look down at her, and say, "You good? You awake now?"
Andrea looks up at me, blinks her eyes again, and then rubs them with her free hand. She then turns slowly, looks at Simon, then the buyer and his driver, continuing to blink away the sleep.
"What's going on? Where's the party?"
"This is the party, baby," I say as I tug her toward the men.
"She's fucking gorgeous," the buyer says, and I notice his voice is nasally. "I might have to fuck her right here in this parking lot... don't think I can wait."
He punctuates this sentiment by reaching down and rubbing his dick through his pants.
While this is a disgusting move, I don't have time to be affronted on Andrea's behalf, and besides, that was the perfect opening for Nikki to start rebelling a little.
She pulls against my arm and digs her heels into the concrete. "What the fuck is going on here?" she asks hysterically, while pointing at the buyer. "He is not fucking me."
"Feisty," the buyer sneers. "I like a good fight."
Andrea starts struggling hard against me, and just as we reach the group of men, she breaks free of my grip. Things happen fast but I manage to freeze everything in my mind, noticing several important things at once.
Simon is surprised Andrea broke free, but he's prepared to protect the product, so he throws his arms and legs wide in case she tries to dart past him. His eyes are pinned on Andrea.
The buyer is completely turned on by her spirit, his erection tenting his pants, and he turns his head lazily to the driver and says, "Get her under control."
Neither of those men are looking at Andrea or me.
It's the perfect time.
I reach behind me, grab my gun, and because I got the jump and I'm standing closer to them, I decide to take on the driver and buyer. Pointing it at them, I yell, "Police."
Exactly point-three seconds after I draw my gun, Andrea has hers out... pointed at Simon. "FBI, asshole. Surprise!"
"Hands in the air," I shout loudly to the two men before me. "Down on your knees... now. Down, now."
My yelling tactics work, as they are so stunned that their hands immediately go up and they're lowering to their knees. If Mike's team is nearby as I expect, they will have heard that as well.
I see a flash of movement from the corner of my eye, and I hear Andrea grunt. I can't take my eyes off my quarry, but I hear the clatter of her gun skittering across the pavement and the receding sound of running feet.
Before I can even tell Andrea to let him go, I hear her curse and then the sound of her feet are pounding... in pursuit of Simon, who is now on the run.
I risk a quick glance, see him tearing up the alley that we came in on toward Devine. Andrea is after him, her long legs pumping hard, and within seconds, they are both out of sight.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I itch to put a bullet in both men's legs before me... hobble them good enough that I can go after Andrea and Simon.
Luckily, I hear more feet... several pairs, and then Mike and his tactical team are swarming the parking lot from the dark alley, just as I'd predicted.
"Cover them," I yell, turning to start running after Andrea.
I vaguely hear Mike saying, "FBI... you're under arrest for the..." and then he's fading away as I enter the alley. Bursting out onto Devine, I see an undercover cruiser with lights flying toward me and a flash of golden-blonde hair disappearing down the alley across the street. I burst into another run, crossing Devine, and dodging one car that slams its brakes on. I slap at the hood with my free hand and keep running.
The cruiser pulls into the alley behind me as I run, but there's not enough room for it to pass me and I'm not giving up the chase. I can see the shadowy form of Andrea ahead, and she's closing in on Simon.
Fuck, she's in great shape.
She's within an arm's length of him and in one stride, she pushes off her right leg and leaps at his back. She misses and I watch her start to fall, thinking she's going to be picking her teeth up off the pavement, but then she manages to latch her arms around one of his legs.
Simons goes down in a tangled mess with her, both of them hitting the concrete hard and rolling. Their lack of momentum causes me to bridge the gap quickly, and just as Simon rolls to his knees, preparing to lunge back into a run, I take three more strides and kick him in the rib cage with a steel-toed boot.
He lets out a huge oomph and rolls to his back, groaning and holding his ribs with his hands. The cruiser slams to a halt, and two FBI agents jump out. I know they can handle Simon so I immediately tuck my gun in the back of my jeans again and turn to Andrea.
Chapter 12
Andrea
I'm pretty sure the crackling I heard when Wyatt's boot connected with Simon's rib cage was several bones breaking.
I roll... come up to my knees, and lay my palms on my thighs as Simon writhes on the ground in agony. My chest is heaving with exertion, and I suck in lungfuls of oxygen.
"Fuck, I'm out of shape," I gasp to no one in particular.
"Out of shape?" Wyatt says, and when my eyes slide over to his, I see him smiling down at me. "You ran him down... tackled him hard enough the NFL would want to recruit you. I think you're in excellent shape."
Reaching out, he holds his hand out to me and because I doubt I have the strength to stand on my own just yet, I accept. "Yeah... but a few years ago, I wouldn't have been winded by that."
His smile turns into a grin, and then my smile turns into a grin. He tugs on my hand, and I start to stand up. Acid-like pain flares around my left hip, and I can't stop the gasp that wheezes out of me. "Damn... that hurts," I grit out as I wince hard.
"What hurts?" Wyatt asks as he lets my hand go.
Holding out my left arm, I crane my neck and look down at my hip. My jeans are completely shredded starting just below the waistband, which I guess is a damnable consequence of tackling someone on cold, hard pavement. I can see through the material down to my skin, which is shredded as well and seeping blood.
"Christ," Wyatt says as he takes ahold of my arm, just above my elbow, and turns me toward him. "You're bleeding."
The same acid-like fire now sweeps over my elbow where he's holding me, and Wyatt immediately jerks his hand away. It's covered in blood. "Fuck, you're bleeding everywhere."
"Just two places," I say drily as I pick at the material of my jeans and try to pull it away from the massive scrape on my hip.
I hear pounding feet and see Mike Gomez is running toward us.
"Call an ambulance," Wyatt says. "Andrea's hurt."
"I am not hurt. Just scraped up," I say firmly, giving Mike a hard glare. "No ambulance for me."
"Just to let them clean you up," Wyatt starts to argue, but I hold up my hand and wave him off.
"I'm fine. I'll clean up at the field office," I tell him.
He lets out a grunt of frustration, but then nods his head at me in capitulation.
"Come on," Mike says as he turns and starts heading to one of the many cruisers that are now parked in the alley. "I'll take you back to the field office. Yo
u'll need to give me a quick statement so I can use it to question the suspects, and then you two need to get some rest. I'll need more detailed interviews with you tomorrow, and you'll have to work up your reports."
I glance back, seeing that Simon is already in handcuffs and is being led to one of the police cars. His eyes go to Wyatt and then slide to mine. I touch the pads of my fingers to my lips and then blow him a kiss. A short wave of my hand, and I say, "Bye-bye, Simon. Enjoy your time in prison."
Wyatt snickers, and Mike grumbles. "Don't mock the prisoner, Somerville. It's poor form."
I look over at Wyatt, and he's grinning down at me. I lean in toward him and whisper, "Yeah, but it's so much fun."
Hazel eyes crinkle up briefly in amusement, then Wyatt throws his entire head back and starts laughing. He's not paying attention to me, so I take the short opportunity to look at his handsome face, the peek of white teeth, and the strong jaw line.
Damn, he's beautiful... inside and out.
And I don't feel the slightest bit guilty about acknowledging that to myself either.
I give a lusty yawn as I finish drying myself off and note the clock hanging on the locker room wall says 4 AM. True to his word, Mike took very abbreviated statements from Wyatt and me to get the basic rundown of what happened tonight, and then headed out to the Raleigh Police Department where Simon, the buyer, and his driver were being held for questioning. Lance had also been picked up and was en route to the station. They would be going at them for hours if they didn't lawyer up, and Mike had quite the gleam in his eye over the prospect.
Luckily, my suitcase with my clothes and real ID is here at the FBI field office so I decided to take a quick shower, which was the best way to clean my wounds. Wyatt told me he'd wait for me and give me a ride back to my apartment.
I graciously accepted the ride, but there was no way I was going back to that crappy apartment to sleep. Nope. I was treating myself to a nice hotel, and since we didn't have to be back for detailed statements for another eight hours, I was going to make the most of that time by sleeping the sleep of the dead in a comfortable bed without the ring of gunshots nearby.
I had found some hydrogen peroxide, cotton balls, and large bandages in the supply room, and have them all laid out on the bench that sits in front of the lockers. I take a moment to dry off my body. I didn't wash my hair because I didn't have anything to dry it with here, but rather pulled it up into a messy knot at the top of my head.
With a Twist Page 10