I open my mouth. I close my mouth. I crumple like an accordion, falling flat on my back. My legs are useless, my arms tingling, my universe spinning.
Julian peers over me. “Have a nice little sleep, won’t you? We’re about to take a little trip, you and me.”
Ffffffffuuuuuuck!
Darkness.
*****
I gasp.
I was asleep, like completely unconscious, and now something cold and wet is being poured over my head, running into my eyes and dribbling between my breasts.
I come to painfully, blinking to get the water out of my eyes. At least I hope it’s water and not gasoline or something. I bring my hands up to wipe my eyes and find them bound together with a zip-tie that’s cutting into my skin. Great.
I shake water droplets from my face and look around, taking in my surroundings. I’m in the back of a limousine, sitting upright in a plush leather seat. Jase is to my left, trying to wipe the water from his own eyes. His hands are bound in his lap as well, and we’ve both been relieved of our weapons by the looks of things.
“You’re so cute when you sleep,” Julian Ross says to me, his brown eyes flat and reptilian-looking. He looks like one of those gators from fucking Miami, roaming the canals in search of fresh meat. He’s sitting across from me, his sidekick in the bad suit next to him.
Jase goes to launch himself at Julian, but Julian holds his finger up in warning, a gun materializing in his other hand. It’s pointed at me.
“Uh-uh,” he cautions. Jase sits back in his seat, breathing heavily. I glance at him, seeing a man who’s about to lose his fucking shit and rip Julian apart with his bound hands and bare teeth, even if it earns him a bullet.
“What do you want?” I ask Julian. “If you want to shoot us, hurry up and shoot us. I’m not in the mood for bullshit small talk.”
Wow. I can’t believe that just came out of my mouth. And yet, it did. I’m afraid, but more than that, I’m fucking furious.
Julian laughs. “So much anger for somebody so small,” he says. “Somebody so helpless.”
“What.Do.You.Want?” I repeat.
He runs his tongue along his teeth. “You know what I want. I want what your daddy took. I want my money.”
“Your money?” I repeat dully. “We just wiped out your entire biker club. Your means to move your drugs, and your weapons, and your cash. But you don’t want to make us pay, or punish us, or anything else like that—you just want your money?”
I sigh. “I’ve got to say, I’m a little underwhelmed.”
I’m stalling. I don’t have a clear plan here, so I’m stalling, hoping someone will spring us, hoping for a fucking miracle. Stalling so he doesn’t shoot us both right now.
“Ah, but you did me a favor,” Julian replies, grinning. “I’m a different operator than my brother was. I don’t like sharing. And I don’t like dirty bikers getting in my business. So thank you. You just saved me a real headache.”
“You’re so welcome,” I say sarcastically. “Maybe you could let us go as a gesture of your gratitude.”
Julian’s eyes narrow. “And maybe you could get your scheming little ass out of this car and take a little walk into the bank with me.”
I glance out of my window to see a large building in front of us. Of course. We’re in downtown Los Angeles, in the banking district.
“A little bird tells me you’ve got a safety deposit box here, Miss Portland.”
“Let him go,” I lift my chin towards Jase, “and I’ll get you whatever you want from that bank.”
Julian shifts forward, placing the barrel of his gun against Jase’s left thigh.
“This is not a negotiation,” he breathes. “I’m going to free your hands, both of you. You’re going to get out of this car with me, and you’re going to walk into that bank, and get me that fucking safety deposit box. We’re going to open it, and you’re not going to make a scene. Because if you do, I start killing my nephew’s traitorous fucking son here that you seem to be so fond of.”
“You’re going to kill us anyway,” Jase says. “Why would we help you first?”
Julian cocks the hammer of his gun and digs it harder into Jase’s thigh.
“You remember the little video of your girlfriend? The snufftastic gang bang of Juliette Portland? You remember that, don’t you, Jason?”
Jase’s nostrils flare as he breathes heavily, his eyes bugging out as he watches the gun in his leg.
“You make this difficult for me, and I’ll make volume two. Juliette goes to pound town. Juliette gets fucked by every member of my Cartel. Juliette’s asshole goes for a ride to Mexico. Are you picking up what I’m putting down, boy?”
Jase looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel. Julian sits back and smiles, the guy beside him producing a small box-cutter. “Hands,” Julian orders, and Jase and I reluctantly stick our bound hands out. The guy who tranquilized us cuts through our bindings.
“Play nice, you two,” Julian warns as he knocks on his window and the door opens. He steps out, draping his jacket over his arm to conceal his gun.
I look at Jase. He looks back at me, regret written all over his face.
I want to tell him not to worry. That we’ll find a way out.
But I don’t.
Because I don’t know how we’re going to get out of this.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
JULIETTE
Ten minutes later, we’re inside the vault that houses every safety deposit box in this bank. A security guard stands just outside the door.
Julian stands beside me, pressing a key into my outstretched palm. Jase is on the other side of the room with tranquillizer dude, who didn’t manage to smuggle his large dart gun into the bank. The only weapon in the room is Julian’s gun, and I know Jase is thinking exactly the same thing as me: How the fuck to get it away from him.
I take a deep breath. Number three-fifty-three. I locate the box, about waist height and off to my right, and I slide the key in, turning it with a trepidatious breath.
It clicks and the long metal box releases, allowing me to pull it out of its spot. I slide it out, turning to place it on the square table that takes up the center of the room.
“Open it,” Julian says, his gun pointed at me. How he got it this far into the bank undetected is beyond me. He must have paid the guard off or something.
I open it, marveling at how razor-sharp the long lid of the box edge is as my life flashes before my eyes. Everything is just as I left it the morning before I went back to find Dornan and begin my wreck and ruin of his universe. There’s my passport, some photographs, and a small stack of hundred dollar bills.
Emphasis on small. Julian peers over, doing a double take when he sees how little money is in front of him.
“Is this some kind of fucking joke?” he asks, snatching the stack of hundreds up and flipping through it. “There’s maybe four hundred grand in here. Where’s the rest of it?!”
I shrug petulantly. “How the fuck should I know? This is all I’ve ever seen.”
He throws the stack down on the table in front of me and makes a growling noise in the back of his throat. He grabs the back of my head and slams my face into the table. Jesus!
My ears ring and I taste blood on my tongue. I hope he hasn’t knocked any of my teeth loose. My mouth bears the brunt of the impact, sparing my ten thousand dollar nose job.
“Hey!” Jase yells from across the table. Julian points his gun at him in warning. “I wouldn’t if I were you. I will shoot you dead and piss on your dead body, you fucking traitor.”
Julian fists his hand in my hair and pulls me back to my feet.
“Where’s my money,” he hisses. “There should be ten times that amount there!”
I raise my eyebrows. “How the hell should I know? I didn’t take it.”
He takes a deep breath and licks his lips, studying my face.
“Five million dollars,” he says, trailing a finger over my shoulder. “I wond
er how many snuff movies I’d have to make of you to make five million dollars.”
“Get your fucking hands off her, old man,” Jase snaps.
Julian looks over at Jase like he’s a dead cockroach stuck to his expensive Italian loafer, reaching over and pinching my nipple at the same time.
“Ah!” I cry, stepping backwards. What am I going to do? I refuse to let this fucker kill me after everything we’ve been through.
Julian looks back to me. “You step back again and I’ll shoot you in your pretty fucking face,” he says.
“Won’t get your five million then, will you old man.”
He breathes angrily. “Fine. You step back again and I’ll shoot your boy in his pretty fucking face. And then you’ll be my new baby porn star. And I’ll make sure you die a slow, painful death after you’ve earned out the cash your daddy stole from us.”
“What are you going to make me do?” I ask. Stalling, always stalling. Where’s my fucking back-up crew? Where’s my fucking miracle?
Julian smiles. “Lots of things.”
“Tell me,” I say defiantly. “I want to know what you’ve got planned for me.”
He narrows his eyes at me, suspicion written all over his face.
“Why?”
I shrug. “Because maybe I like doing dirty things. Maybe you won’t have to kill me. Maybe you’ll decide you like me enough to keep me. Dornan was never going to kill me. He was going to keep me because I’m that good.”
Julian’s eyebrows rise. “Can you believe this bitch?” He asks the other dude, who looks about as interested as I feel. He whips his gaze back to me. “What makes you think you’re so good?”
“You’ve seen the video, surely,” I reply. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”
“You’re a fucking liar.”
“No, I’m not,” I reply. “Get your camera phone out, old man, and I’ll get on my knees and suck your cock right now. We can be making money on porntube tonight.”
“Juliette!” Jase says.
“Fuck you, Jase. I saw you screwing that girl last night at the club while you thought I wasn’t watching.” I stare at him, widening my eyes. Go along with me, Jase. For God’s sake, go along with me.
“Don’t fucking touch her, Julian,” Jase warns.
But Julian looks excited. A pretty young girl is offering to suck his cock and let him record it. In a bank vault. At one o clock in the afternoon.
I glance at the empty safety-deposit box on the table. My hands are itching to grab it. It’s so sharp! Maybe that’s my miracle, after all.
“How do I know you’re not going to bite me?” Julian asks.
I shrug. “Well, you’ve got a gun, big shot. I’m not about to bite you and get a bullet in my brain.”
He’s hesitant.
“Come on, old man. Get your phone out and start taping.”
“Juliette!” Jase yells.
I don’t respond. I’m balanced on the balls of my feet, ready to move at a second’s notice. I put one hand on the table beside me, almost a casual move, as Julian reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone.
He lowers his aim for one fucking second. And I take my chance.
Picking up the metal safety-deposit box, I smash it into Julian’s gun. He grunts and his fingers lose grip, the gun skidding across the floor.
“You cunt!” he yells, going to tackle me. I don’t let him get that far, though. I swipe the sharp edge of the safety-deposit box lid across his throat as hard as I can, a bright slash of blood appearing at his neck.
Julian’s hands go to his throat immediately as arterial blood sprays me in the face. “Ugh,” I moan, spitting the taste of his blood out of my mouth. I look to my left to see Jase and the guard struggling over the gun.
Oh, fuck. They’ve both got a grip on it. As I’m watching them, Julian makes another clumsy grab for me. I raise the box again, smashing it into his face so he drops to his knees. He’s bleeding everywhere, spraying the wall of safety deposit boxes with lashings of blood as his heart tries to pump in vain.
“Should have let us walk away, old man,” I say, lifting the edge of the box lid above my head and driving it into the fleshy part of his neck. It finds purchase, stopping when it hits bone, and Julian Ross is dead, his mouth and eyes frozen open.
I turn my attention to Jase and the guy rolling around on the floor just as Jase gets the upper hand, pinning the guy beneath him and smashing the butt of the gun into his face until he passes out. Jase holds the guy’s nose and covers his mouth for almost a full minute until he lifts off the floor ever so slightly and then goes limp. I don’t interrupt. It’s stressful enough killing someone without trying to have conversation at the same time. Then, as Jase is standing up and I’m anxiously looking around for any cameras that might be in this room, the door bursts open. The security guard who was flanking the door to the vault rushes in, his own weapon drawn and pointed at Jase. I don’t even give him a chance to see me. I fly at him from the side, knocking the gun from his hand. It skids underneath the table, out of immediate reach. I kick the door shut with my foot and lean against it, catching my breath.
The security guard’s eyes go wide and I give him a warning look when he looks like he’s going to yell for help.
“Wouldn’t do that,” I say, glancing at his name tag. “Herb Trasker. Are there cameras in this room, Herb?”
He gulps nervously, shaking his head. Herb is sweating profusely. He’s about a hundred pounds overweight, and I’m afraid he’s going to die of a heart attack if we don’t reel this in quickly.
“You like money, Herb?” I ask, looking at Jase to see he’s still got Julian’s gun trained on the guard.
Herb doesn’t answer. I motion to the stack of bills on the table. “A hundred grand, Herb, if you let us walk. What do you say? We’re not bank robbers. We’re not bad people. We’re just trying to get through the day.”
Herb looks at the money anxiously, licking his lips.
“You got a family, herb?” Jason cuts in. “Get his wallet.”
Herb’s face falls at the mention of family. “Please,” he says. “I’ve got a newborn baby girl. A wife. Please don’t bring my family into this. I’m just trying to get through the day, too.”
I nod. “You got your car keys on you, Herb?”
He nods. “Do you need a getaway car?”
I smile. “That we do, Herb. A getaway car and your jacket to clean this blood off my face. No silly moves or my partner here will shoot you. He really wants to shoot somebody today.”
Jase smiles congenially at poor Herb.
Herb shrugs out of his jacket reluctantly and hands it to me. I wipe my face as best I can, hoping there’s nothing too obvious. We just need to get across the parking lot and we’ll be set.
Herb reluctantly hands over his keys, cell phone and wallet. I smile, thanking him as I hand back his blood-smeared jacket.
“It was nice meeting you, Herb.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t get the chance. Jase hits him over the head with the butt of Julian’s gun, and he goes down hard. I scoop up the money and the photographs and stuff them in Jase’s pockets.
“Blood check?” I ask Jase, turning my head so he can see both sides of my face. He grimaces. “Yeah. On your teeth. Just don’t open your mouth. And definitely don’t kiss me.”
I laugh.
We don’t have any trouble exiting the bank, much to my surprise. After clicking the remote on Herb’s keychain a few times, Jase points. “The Civic. Over there.”
We take Herb’s car, after we kill the limo driver with a single shot to the head and collect our rocket launchers. For a major financial district, nobody seems to have noticed the triple homicide that’s just taken place. I guess we just don’t look that threatening.
While Jase takes the wheel, I call Elliot and let him know where to meet us. They’ve been searching for us since they realized we were MIA, and Elliot sounds like he’s almo
st crying when we end the call.
When we get to our destination, Jase parks the car and we get out, taking our things with us. Two rocket launchers, broken down and stowed in long canvas bags. A couple handguns that we hide with the rocket launchers. My passport. And a stack of photos that I’ve been waiting to go back to for months.
I knock on the door and wait. A few moments later, a woman answers the door. She’s holding a baby in her arms, a chubby little thing that looks just like Herb, only a lot cuter. I smile at the woman broadly, sticking my hand out.
“Mrs. Trasker?” I ask. She takes my hand slowly, looking puzzled.
“Can I help you?” she asks.
“We’re friends of Herb’s,” Jase says, flashing her a dazzling smile as he hands her Herb’s car keys. “We’re here to drop his car off. Please tell him we left his work files in the backseat for him.
She looks from me to Jase, confusion all over her face. “Do you work at the bank?” she asks.
“We’re consultants,” Jase says. “Please tell him about the work files in the backseat. They’re very important. Very time-sensitive.”
I wonder how Herb’s going to react when he sees that we kept our promise—that he’s got a stash of cash in his car that will set him up for life.
Five minutes later, the three musketeers—Luis, Elliot and Tommy—pull up in the Hummer Elliot rented. Lucky we have fake credit cards, because otherwise Avis is going to stop letting us rent cars. Because we never seem to manage to take them back. They keep getting left in airfields or apartment parking lots.
We get into the backset with Luis. Elliot’s driving, and Tommy’s shotgun. As soon as we’re safely shut into the car, Elliot speeds away up the street. We don’t need Mrs. Trasker getting our plate number.
“How about a high fucking five!” Tommy yells, twisting in his seat and holding out his palm to us. I laugh, high-fiving him. Jase shakes his head in embarrassment, but doesn’t leave Tommy hanging.
Elliot turns around and flashes me a smug grin, before looking back to the road. Luis is pouring a shot of tequila down his throat, before offering me the bottle. I take a swig, figuring it’ll disinfect my mouth of Julian’s blood, if nothing else. Jase reaches out and grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly. Impulsively, I turn and kiss him full on the mouth, and he kisses me back, almost devouring me.
Zero Hour (Gypsy Brothers #8) Page 9