Ruthless Protector

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Ruthless Protector Page 10

by Sherilee Gray


  “Shut up!” he screamed in my face.

  Real fear churned in my gut. Before he’d come into my home and wrapped his hands around my throat, I’d never been scared of Trent. I needed to pull it back, and fast. I was in the middle of nowhere, with a man who hated me, who was clearly unhinged or back on drugs. Baiting him wasn’t clever. I needed to play nice, but I’d despised him for so long, had made no attempts to hide that fact, that I knew he wouldn’t believe it, even if I could stomach trying.

  “My money, give it to me,” he yelled.

  He still had hold of me, his grip on me painfully tight. I reached down, found my bag, and grabbed the cash. “Here.” I thrust it at him.

  He stared down at it and his eyes went wild, furious. “What the fuck is this?”

  “Five hundred,” I said, forcing myself not to shrink back when his rage-filled eyes came back to mine.

  His face was so close that when he talked, his rancid breath washed over me. “It’s not enough,” he gritted.

  “It’s all I have.”

  He jerked his head back and forth. “That won’t do, Willa, not at fucking all.” He shoved away from me. “Get out of the car.”

  I scrambled out, ready to run, but Trent was too quick and grabbed my arm.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  I tried to wrench out of his hold. “Where? Where are we going?”

  “Like I said, it’s not enough, so you’re going to have to give me something else.”

  I tried to pull free again, a sick feeling hitting me so hard, I thought I might throw up. “You touch me, and I’ll fucking find a way to end you, I promise you that,” I said, fighting him with every step we took.

  He sneered at me, his face a mask of disgust. “Dumb skank, I’d rather jerk off for the rest of my life than touch you. But if you want to keep Tilly to yourself, the price is a fuck of a lot more than what you just gave me.”

  “What the hell do you want?” I wasn’t even trying to hide the panic in my voice anymore.

  “I promised some people I’d provide a waitress for their poker game. The guy likes skinny whores like you,” he said, smirking at me.

  “No goddamn way.” I fought harder.

  He shook me, so hard my teeth rattled. “You don’t mind dressing slutty, you’re used to taking your clothes off, right, Willa? You won’t have any trouble doing it now.”

  Oh God, he knew; he knew I was stripping. I kicked him in the shin, wrenched away, and took off in the opposite direction.

  “You leave now, I’ll be paying Tilly a visit tomorrow,” he called out.

  A cry tore from me, part rage, part fear, part resignation. I stopped running and gripped the chain-link fence beside me, gasping, trying to catch my breath, trying to calm myself down. I had no choice but to do this. For Tilly, I had to do this. Trent wasn’t bluffing, I knew he wasn’t, and I wouldn’t put her through that. “Just serving drinks?”

  He didn’t answer my question and came up beside me. “I thought you’d see it my way.”

  He tugged me back to the car, grabbed my bag, and held it out to me. “I take it you have something decent to wear in here?”

  I did. Fay had made me several costumes, and I’d worn one for the first time today. A tiny stretchy mini dress covered in pink sequins. I snatched the bag from him. “Let’s get this over with.”

  I got back in the car and he took us farther into the yard with the shipping containers. He drove until we came to a large building at the far end. There was a light going upstairs, and several other cars parked below. Trent climbed out and I did the same, following behind, scared out of my mind.

  I glanced around, making note of the name on the building. If I had to make a quick escape, if I needed to call for help, I needed a way for that help to find me.

  “Hurry up,” Trent barked, and motioned me inside, pointing to a restroom. “Get changed and be quick about it. And fix your damned hair and put on some lipstick or something. You look like shit.”

  I rushed into the small dingy room and quickly changed, feeling sick to my stomach as I fixed my makeup and slipped on the skyscraper heels Steph had given me. I had no idea what to expect, what I was walking into, and my heart was racing so fast, I thought I might pass out.

  When I came out, he gave me a quick onceover then shoved me toward a set of stairs. We headed up to the second floor. All I could think was, this can’t be happening. It had to be some horrific nightmare.

  My heart was in my throat, my pulse racing, my knees weak. Trent was a low piece of shit, so whoever these people were, if he was involved with them, they were more than likely criminals, shit, gangsters, dealers, God only knew what. Things could go very bad for me, very fast, but I couldn’t see my way out of this.

  We reached the door where two goons were standing outside. They were wearing suits and earpieces, and hard expressions. Trent turned to me and hissed, “Do what the fuck you’re told in there or you’ll pay, understand?”

  I wanted to stab him to death with the four-inch spiked heel of my shoe. Instead, I nodded. I knew a desperate man when I saw one.

  He said I was here to waitress. I could do that, I could switch off, pretend I was somewhere else…with someone else. I’d been doing that every night at Stilettos. I could pretend.

  “I’ve brought the entertainment,” Trent said to the goons.

  One of the suited men spoke into his Bluetooth headset, then opened the door. Trent shoved me in first, and I stumbled before I caught myself. I quickly scanned the room. There were six men sitting around a table, playing poker. It was dark, smoky, and I could only see half of them; the rest were sitting in shadow. I recognized one of the men instantly. Tomas Mendoza. And by the way his eyes sharpened on me, I knew he’d recognized me too.

  Would he tell Steph he saw me here? Raul? If they found out I was here against my will, I knew all sorts of hell would rain down. Raul was protective of his girls, like a father figure. He knew Jude…if he found out…

  “I told you I’d come through,” Trent said to one of the men, chest puffing up. “She dances at Stilettos.”

  The other man’s gaze slid to me, moving over my face, my body, slowly, so damn slowly, and it took everything in me not to cover myself with my hands. The guy was creepy as hell.

  “What do you think, Donny?” Mr. Creepy asked, glancing at the man beside him.

  Donny had pasty skin and flesh-colored lips, and his eyes were so pale he seemed colorless, as if he could blend into a beige wall like a chameleon. Donny nodded.

  The other guy did the same to Trent. I had their approval.

  Tomas was still watching me, as was the man beside him. He was good looking; dark hair and eyes, skin a deep olive, his gaze steady, curious. His suit jacket was over the back of his chair and he had the sleeves of his dark shirt rolled up his forearms. I’d never seen him before, but the way he was looking at me, made me think he recognized me. Maybe he’d seen me dance.

  That was more than a little disconcerting.

  “What’s your name?” Mr. Creepy asked.

  I stood tall, trying not to look as terrified as I felt. “Magenta,” I said, using the ridiculous stage name Raul gave me.

  The guy looked at Trent then back at me. “He paying you to be here, Magenta?”

  Trent had his hand on my back and his fingers bit into my skin in warning. I had no idea what I was supposed to say, so took a wild stab and hoped for the best. “Yes.”

  The guy nodded, then his eyes shifted back to Trent. “Amazing. You got something right.”

  Trent took a step toward him. “Can we discuss…”

  “No,” Mr. Creepy said. “We’ll talk when I say so. Now get the fuck gone.”

  Trent look flustered, but also relieved, and barely spared me a glance as he scurried out like the vermin he was.

  “Don’t just stand there, pinky,” the creep said, making me jump. “My glass is empty.”

  There was a bottle of whiskey sitting on the table, so
I walked over and carefully poured him a measure. The asshole’s hand slid over my hip as I did this, and it was hard but I managed to keep the revulsion from my face, forcing a smile as I moved out of reach and worked my way around the table.

  I needed to get out of here. The sooner the better. Would they buy an excuse? Maybe I could pretend to be sick? Would the goons at the door follow me if I said I needed a bathroom break? I had to try. Ten minutes. I’d wait ten minutes, then I’d tell them I needed the ladies’ room.

  I did my best not to make eye contact, God, even look at the men in the room. I’d topped up Mr. Dark and Handsome’s drink. He didn’t touch me, and I appreciated it. I moved to the next, then the next, one of the guys who had been shrouded in shadow. The bottle clinked against his glass as I poured.

  “Thanks,” he said, low and rough.

  I jolted when I recognized the deep grittiness in that voice, at the instant awareness that sent shivers through me. My gaze shot to his face, and I froze solid.

  Jude.

  His brown gaze bore into me, intense, alert. He was dressed like Mr. Dark and Handsome beside him. Suit pants and a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his jacket draped over the back of his seat.

  “You playing, Jack, or are you gonna eye fuck the help all night?” the creep said, unfreezing me.

  Jude gripped my hip possessively and smirked at the other men in the room. “You’ve got enough of my money,” Jude said, which I guess meant he was Jack. “I’m out.”

  9

  Jude

  Willa was staring at me, eyes wide. Shit, if she blew our covers, we were fucked. I could see her wheels spinning.

  I dropped my cards on the table, taking myself out of the game. “Why don’t you sit here for a while, honey,” I said, tugging Willa onto my lap.

  She didn’t resist, recognizing the lifeline I was throwing.

  Van started talking, drawing attention from us. I leaned in, pressing my mouth to her ear. “Play along.”

  Her eyes slid around the table and I knew we were being watched. She giggled, a sound I had never heard her make. It was fake as hell, but no one else knew that. Christ, this was a fuck up of epic proportions. What in the hell was she doing here?

  I kept her on my lap until the drinks were empty again, until Jethro, the slimy fucker, demanded she refill his glass.

  Willa smiled, not doing a great job of hiding her disgust when he touched her ass. I was pretty sure I was failing as well. Van gave me a dark look, warning me to keep my shit together. It wasn’t easy. The guy was a sick fucker, into anything and everything. Which was why we were here. Tomas owed Raul a marker, Raul used it to help us out, to get us in on this game. Jethro and his new partner Donny were trying to move in on Tomas’ territory. Tomas was playing nice with these guys for now, letting them think they had the upper hand. It suited Tomas to let The King Agency, as well as the cops, take them out. Tomas’ hands stayed clean and he kept his territory.

  Which was why I was sitting in this room.

  And thank fuck I was.

  I glanced over at her again. What kind of shit was she in that she’d ended up in this situation? And who was the little prick she came with? He’d obviously gotten her the gig.

  I needed to keep a clear head, but I needed to get Willa back over here with me for that to happen. There was a scraggly-looking plant by the window beside me. Now I just needed to make sure all eyes were off me so I could dump my drink. My moment came a few minutes later when, one of the other men slapped Willa on the ass and she cried out in surprise.

  I dumped my drink and lifted my glass. “Over here,” I said.

  Her wide eyes darted to me, then she was hustling back my way. I planned on pulling her back in beside me, but then the guy between Van and I got her to take care of him as well. She was closer to Van than me, and I couldn’t do a damned thing when the guy’s hands started toward her hips.

  Van reached out and tugged her to him, doing what I had earlier, putting her in his lap. I almost came out of my seat. She looked startled, then I watched him say something to her, and she relaxed some. She had no idea what she’d walked in on, how dangerous these men were.

  The game went on late into the night. Van and I trying to do our damn jobs, while doing our best to keep Willa safe. I was already on edge; we needed to take this asshole down. Looking as tense as I felt would set off alarms, but it was hard to keep it tight, especially when my attempts to keep her with me weren’t completely successful.

  The festivities were coming to a close. Van had managed to reel Jethro in, a meeting set up between them for the following week. He thought Van was one of Tomas’ suppliers, thought he was sticking it to his competitor right in front of him. Jethro looked smug as hell. He also had Willa pressed against his side, his arm locked around her, hand on her ass, keeping her where he wanted her. She winced when his fingers dug into her flesh, and I’d had more than enough. My chair scraped as I got to my feet.

  I felt Van turn to me, the look he gave me, telling me to be cautious.

  “Let’s go, honey,” I said to Willa. “You still want a ride on my bike?”

  Jethro’s eyes narrowed. “Now hang on a minute…”

  This wasn’t how things went down at these games; the girls were expected to go home with Jethro, everyone knew that. Wasn’t happening tonight, though. The case was important, but not at the expense of Willa or any other woman. She was doing a good job hiding it, but Willa was scared shitless, and she had good reason to be.

  Willa smiled wide and did a girly squeal, jumping up and down, dislodging the fucker attached to her, and ran around the table, plastering herself to my front. “You mean it?”

  Her eyes were locked on mine and I didn’t miss the get-me-the-hell-outta-here behind them or the way she’d fisted my shirt, clinging to me. “I said I would, didn’t I?” I said to her, grabbed my jacket off the back of my chair, then looked at Jethro. “Thanks for the game, you know how to reach me if you want to do business.” He thought I had cartel connections, and I hoped that gave him pause, made him wary of me. I said to the rest of the table, “Gentlemen.”

  Van dipped his chin a fraction, letting me know he had this. Since Van and I weren’t supposed to know each other, we’d come separately anyway. Tomas was watching the show, unfazed; hell, he looked like he was enjoying the hell out of it. Prick.

  Willa grabbed her bag, and I took her hand, dragging her from the room.

  I rushed her down the stairs and out the door. She wasn’t safe until I had her on the back of my bike and out of Jethro’s reach. He could send his goons after her at any moment. My only hope was that he was more interested in my fake cartel ties than Willa.

  “Quick,” I gritted out when I reached my bike. “Put this on.”

  I handed her my jacket and she quickly slipped it on. The thing was huge on her, swamping her tiny frame, but she didn’t mess around, obviously sensing my urgency. I climbed on and she threw her bag over her head, and slid on behind me.

  “Where’s Tilly?” I asked her.

  “With Fay for the night.”

  Good. I started the bike with a roar, walked it back from between the cars parked on either side of me, and told her to hold on.

  The tires spat up gravel as we roared out of the lot and hit the street.

  Willa pressed into my back, her arms wound around me, fingers digging into my stomach as I took a tight corner. I felt her relax after a short time, moving with me as we weaved through traffic. Her hand dropped a little and her pinky finger hit the top of my pants. My abs clenched and my cock responded instantly, stirring to life. Having her on my lap all night, despite the shit going on around us, had been pure torture. That sexy round ass of hers felt like it belonged there. Add to that the smell of her skin, her hair…

  Shit, everything about her made me crazy, including her smart mouth.

  I wasn’t some manwhore, but I wasn’t a monk either. I didn’t have any trouble finding company for the night when
I wanted it, but I’d never wanted a woman the way I did Willa. I didn’t know what it was about her; why her giving me shit turned me the fuck on. She was independent and I respected her for it, even when I wanted to shake her for the same reason.

  I needed to get a damn handle on it. On the way I felt about her. I wanted to help her out with whatever trouble she was in, and I sure as hell wasn’t opposed to spending some quality time with her between the sheets. And I knew she was right there with me. Things were getting complicated, which meant I had to be careful because, beyond that? Well, relationships, commitment, they weren’t for me.

  I shut down those thoughts before I could go too deep, and took the last corner.

  The house I’d bought, the one I’d intended for my sister and nephew, came into view. The light by the front door had been left on, and I had to shake off the memory of my sister smiling at me when I unlocked that door and told her the house was hers. I sure as hell didn’t need to go there tonight.

  I pulled to a stop out front, and shut off my bike.

  Willa’s hands slipped away and she climbed off. “Thanks for the ride home,” she said, like that was the end of it. Like she could just walk away and I’d forget that whole shit-show never happened.

  I stared at her.

  She stared back, then she bit her lip.

  My cock twitched.

  She blew out a breath and forced a little laugh. “Jack, huh? God, I had no idea you’d be there. That was kinda crazy tonight, right? Are you working some undercover case?”

  She was trying to play it cool. I didn’t buy it, not one bit. I dipped my chin and didn’t look away, waiting of her to explain what the fuck she was doing there tonight.

  She tucked a strand of pale pink hair behind her ear. “I’m pretty sure no one…um, realized we knew each other. So, your case or whatever, won’t be compromised?”

  I kicked down the bike stand, the leather seat creaking as I swung my leg over the back. “Nah, they had no clue. You’re a good actress…”

  She smiled.

  “But not good enough to fool me.”

  The smile wavered and she shifted from foot to foot. “What are you talking about?”

 

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