Rosa frowned. “Roger, let’s just say I understand the mindset of violent men a bit more than you do.”
“I understand Ezekiel better than you do.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen, Melissa is a trinket to him, something pretty to show off to make him feel powerful. Why else would he bring her out here to do business? And why would he bring me to take care of her appearance?”
“Can you both stop talking about me like I’m not here? You can all gossip about Ezekiel as much as you like, but I can take care of myself and I don’t need anyone’s protection.” At this, I gave Rosa a pointed look, and she turned away. “Let’s all agree we don’t understand Ezekiel as much as we’d like to and leave it at that.”
“All right,” Roger muttered.
Rosa reached across the table and patted my hand. “Of course, honey.”
I didn’t care for the sympathy I saw in Rosa’s eyes, as if I were some sorry soul in need of rescue. I pulled my hand away as discreetly as possible and smiled in hopes she wouldn’t take offense.
The food came, and while I didn’t consider it worth the price on the menu, it was good enough as long as I ignored all the strangely colored specks in it. Roger looked plenty content to eat what was given to him, but Rosa picked around a lot, looking unsatisfied.
“So, Roger, if you’re her bodyguard, that means she’s in some sort of danger.”
“Not really. Just a precaution. Like…how many planes crash in a year compared to how many fly every day? And yet you always have to listen to those stupid safety talks at the beginning of each one. It’s a precaution.”
“But why? So Melissa is in danger?”
“Ezekiel’s looking out for her, that’s all. If it would make you happier, he has guards for everything—his garage, his house, his warehouses abroad. Doesn’t mean anyone’s going to attempt to steal his Lantacher—”
“He has a Lantacher?” I asked incredulously. Selling a Lantacher sports car could probably buy me a whole apartment complex in Metro, perhaps even two.
“Well, yeah. He rarely drives it. I think he keeps it for special occasions.”
“Damn,” Rosa muttered, shaking her head. “Does anyone really know how much Ezekiel is worth?”
“Never asked him,” Roger said with a smirk. “Though you’re free to, if you’d like.”
“How’d he make it all? I mean, drugs, obviously, but how do you even get started in that business?”
“Just how you get started in every other business: you make your way from the bottom to the top,” Roger replied.
“Wonder what he was like at the bottom,” I couldn’t help wondering.
“That seems to be a secret of his, so I doubt his life started out pleasant. Bruce and Garrett have that in common. I know both of them are ex-cons.”
“Lovely. Do you have a violent past, too?” Rosa asked.
Roger shook his head. “My past is none of your business.”
“No ghosts in the closet?”
Roger ran a hand along the nape of his neck, then shrugged. “Eh, maybe a few.”
“That’s why Ezekiel hired us,” I said softly. “For our ghosts.”
* * *
Ezekiel told Roger to stay home that night because he was taking me out. I would have rather spent the night with Roger, watching TV and eating popcorn like slobs, but I didn’t dare admit that. Instead I slipped into the dress provided for me, let Rosa straighten my hair and do my makeup, and showed up at the entrance to the hotel with five minutes to spare. Thanks to a hit I’d taken that afternoon, I felt calm and more confident than usual.
The lights danced across the waxed exterior of the limo, sliding along its skin like droplets of water when it moved. Ezekiel emerged from the backseat, dressed to match his black vehicle, expression and suit both wrinkle-free and flawless. He gave me a small smile.
“Come, Melissa. We have a schedule to keep.”
I took his hand, and he guided me into the limo, which was full of custom leather and dim lighting. Ezekiel sat down beside me, reaching for the champagne with one hand while letting the other rest on my bare thigh.
“Would you like a glass?” he asked, turning that sharp blue gaze on me.
“Yes, please.”
“You look unsure about this excursion.” Ezekiel poured me a glass as the limo rolled away. I couldn’t see Bruce or Garrett in the vicinity, but there was a black barrier keeping the driver a secret from us. They could be in the front seats.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”
“Is it another fight club?”
“Of course not. This is for your entertainment.”
“So it’s not dangerous.”
Ezekiel scoffed. “No, not at all.”
That didn’t help my nerves much, but at least I knew Ezekiel was telling the truth. He hadn’t lied to me yet.
We ended up going to a circus of sorts, but not the kind with bears riding scooters around in a circle. Judging by the dress and breed of those in the audience, this circus was of an artsy variety, mostly contortionists, trapeze performers, and horse trainers. There were no funny clowns, no dogs in tutus, no elephants standing on big balls. Instead the acts consisted of soft classical music and feats of flexibility and athleticism. Most of the contortionists wore little more than tiny pieces of cloth over their genitals; the rest of their bodies were coated in gold glitter and elaborate paintings.
With the elegant lighting, breathtaking costumes, and astonishing talent, I was left in awe throughout the entire performance. I felt Ezekiel watching me a few times, but if I forgot he was there, I enjoyed myself. When the show ended with explosions of sparkles and crashing drums, I jumped to my feet to applaud like everyone else around me.
“I take it you liked it?” Ezekiel asked as we headed for the exit.
“Very much. Thank you.” I blushed, because I wasn’t used to thanking Ezekiel. We had a business arrangement, and neither one was expected to show any gratitude.
Bruce, who had lingered in the shadows all evening, stepped up to Ezekiel and whispered something in his ear. Ezekiel’s eyes flashed, and his amiable expression molded instantly into a fierce scowl.
“What?” he growled.
“He leaves tonight. You’d best catch him now.”
Ezekiel muttered something under his breath. He took my arm in a firm grip.
“I’m sorry to spoil the mood of the evening, Melissa, but I have someone I need to catch.”
With that, we headed to the limo at a fast walk, ducking inside moments before the car squealed away to a mystery destination.
Chapter 16
“He’ll be expecting you,” Bruce murmured, now sitting across from us in the limo. I stared at him as he yanked a rather large pistol out of his jacket, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.
“I know.” Ezekiel’s face was dark, his eyes narrowed, his brow low. I was getting my first look at the drug lord beneath the gentleman’s mask. He’d been cordial and polite until now, and even during sex had been somewhat reserved. But this was another side of him, a violent and focused side.
“What about her?” Bruce motioned toward me, not looking in my direction. As if I weren’t there.
“Call Roger. Have him pick her up at—”
Bruce interrupted him. “We have a tail.”
I twisted around to look, but Ezekiel grabbed my arm in a death grip. I quickly turned back, my heart in my throat. “Oh, really?”
“Can’t let her out now.”
“So that’s the game he’s going to play, hmm?”
Ezekiel crouched, half-standing as he made his way to what looked like a panel of buttons beside the bar. After he typed in a few numbers, the safe clicked and the door swung open. I gulped at the collection of weapons inside. Ezekiel snatched two pistols, one silver and one black, and slipped both under his jacket.
“They’ll disarm you,” Bruce murmured.
“I’ll have to be clever then, won’t I?” Ezekiel shut the door and sank back down. He turned to me. “I apologize for this. I would have liked to return you to the hotel. However, circumstances have forced me to do otherwise. Whatever happens, you stay close to Garrett and Bruce, do you understand?”
I nodded dumbly, really wishing Roger were here. Roger actually seemed to care whether I lived or died. Judging by the indifferent stare Bruce turned toward me, he would sacrifice me to save his own hind end.
I surreptitiously glanced over my shoulder. A pair of headlights blazed behind us, driving too close for comfort.
“Call Roger. Tell him the circumstances. He’ll know what to do.”
Bruce nodded and raised a hand to his earpiece.
“Ezekiel,” I whispered, trying not to shake in fear.
“What is it?”
“What is going on? I—how dangerous—will—”
“Don’t worry.” His eyes met mine in utter seriousness. “You won’t be harmed.”
“But what is all this? What’s going on?”
“I think ignorance is the best way to go about this. Here.” Ezekiel handed me another knife, also fitted with a leather case around the blade and smaller than the one he’d put in his shoe. “Tuck this somewhere and don’t use it unless you absolutely must.”
Gulping, I took the knife. It was heavy and cold in my hand. It reminded me of the time I stabbed a man with a pair of scissors to get him off of me. He’d tried to get a second trick for free. He might have forgone that if he’d predicted I’d shove scissors into his side. I barely made it out alive that night—hence why I wasn’t fond of sharp objects.
Ezekiel touched my face, more gently than I expected. “Melissa, I mean it. I know what I’m doing.”
I tried to trust him.
The limo slowed and turned into an alley. Immediately my hackles rose. Goddess alleys were eerily similar to those in Metro—they contained trash, darkness, graffiti, and probably someone looking to shoot you in the head. When the limo door opened, I nearly threw my arms around Ezekiel in terror. No. Not into the alley. We were safe in the car. We weren’t safe out there.
When I got out, I saw that our tail had pulled in behind us. Two men in black had emerged, pulling on gloves while carrying guns. I backed away, right into a thick chest. Squeaking, I whipped around. Garrett was staring down at me. For some reason, he scared me just as much as the guys across from us did.
Bruce stepped out of the limo, then Ezekiel. Ezekiel looked as if he were meeting old chums at a café, even smiling slightly with utter confidence. He was smaller than his bodyguards, but he was much fiercer, a man without fear or conscience. Blade, with his tattoos, gold-capped teeth, and flying fists, would be a child with a temper next to Ezekiel, who was dressed like a CEO with not a hair out of place.
“Hello, gentlemen,” Ezekiel greeted amiably. “I suppose you’d like to discuss business.”
The men were now pointing guns at us with the ease of those who regularly used them. My stomach crawled up into my throat, and I found it difficult to breathe. I wanted to hold onto something, someone, but no one reached out for me. I felt particularly vulnerable in my six-inch pumps and black mini dress because both would make it hard to bolt if I had to.
“Put down your weapons,” one of the men growled. “You’re surrounded.”
Ezekiel casually turned around, as did I. There was another car rolling down the alley, and someone’s torso poked out of the sunroof, pointing more guns at us.
“It would seem so.” Ezekiel threw his gun down.
“All of them,” another man snapped. “We’ll be frisking you to make sure, so don’t pull anything.”
Ezekiel shrugged and raised his arms. “Search as you like.”
The men were cautious to approach, but Ezekiel was compliant and silent as they frisked him. I tensed when a man grabbed my arm and pushed me against the limo. I let out a small cry at the roughness of his shove, resisting the urge to reach out for Ezekiel’s assistance. Ezekiel just glanced at me over his shoulder, his face as smooth as always. His eyes said something, though, and I believed he was ordering me to calm down. I swallowed another cry and tried not to recoil as the man’s hands skimmed over my body. I couldn’t remember them being this thorough with Ezekiel, and when his hands fell across my boobs, I tried shoving him off of me.
“You sick creep,” I growled, and he slapped me. I didn’t cry out, though. I felt like I had to prove something to Ezekiel. If he was going to be a blank-faced hard-ass, then maybe I could attempt my best impression.
“Leave her alone,” Ezekiel said, though his voice was neither urgent nor indignant, as if he were discussing the weather. “Do you really think she has much room to hide something in that dress?”
The man leered at me but pushed away, and I pulled on the hem of my skirt with a hmph. He hadn’t found the knife tucked into my bra; for all his groping, he’d still failed to disarm me.
“All right,” the biggest of the men growled, taking Ezekiel’s arm. “Get moving.”
“I can walk on my own. No need to lead me like a dog,” Ezekiel muttered, but the man didn’t let go of him. I saw him glance at Bruce, who, if I wasn’t mistaken, nodded minutely. They knew what to do even though I was left in the dark. I took some comfort in knowing they weren’t afraid like I was.
The building we entered wasn’t like the glittering casinos downtown. It wasn’t a decrepit warehouse one might imagine in a movie scene, but it was made with corporate interests in mind—cheap linoleum, gray walls, and poor lighting. It looked like some sort of office building after hours, so most of it was dark. We were taken into a staircase and ordered to climb. I found it interesting how, even when shoved around by a crony, Ezekiel retained his powerful air.
More men joined us on the third floor, toting big guns and heavy scowls. One of them found it necessary to grab me, though at least he wasn’t feeling me up like the other man had. I fell a bit behind because of my heels, but I managed to make it to the fourth floor without losing either shoe.
We were taken to an office at the end of the hall, this one decorated more lavishly than the corridors that led to it. It had a large window with a decent view of downtown Goddess, an aquarium in the corner, and stained wood floors. A desk stood at the end of the room, and behind it sat Jerry Broderick, Ezekiel’s acquaintance from the fight club, wearing a dark green suit that flattered his trim form. His graying hair was combed and swept into a perfect coiffure, nearly matching the white shoes he had perched on top of his desk. He looked as relaxed and comfortable as Ezekiel, with a silver pistol in his hand and a phone in the other. He straightened when we entered, but he still remained reclined in his leather chair, grinning like a fat king on his throne.
“Ezekiel, welcome!” he cried, throwing up his hands and removing his feet from the desk. He stood, straightening his silk-collared suit jacket. “I’m sorry about the rather cold reception, but one must be careful in this business.”
Ezekiel ripped his arm from the crony’s grasp, and the man allowed it. With a jerk of his head, Jerry ordered the men back against the door. I let out a small sigh when the powerful grasp left my elbow, but my relief didn’t last long. I realized we were standing in the center of a heavily armed circle of drug traffickers. A flush bloomed along my chest, and a thin sheen of sweat started between my thighs. The knife in my bra felt heavy and useless.
“You’re pulling out,” Ezekiel said calmly.
“Shocked? Honestly, Ezekiel, you know I’m a businessman. I go where the money is. And right now, the money is with Blue Kitten.”
Ezekiel sneered. “It has a pet name now?”
Jerry smiled, all white teeth and debonair charm. I wondered if he was married with children. He struck me as the kind of guy who would lead a double life. “I find it rather cute, don’t you? Anyway, it
’s been selling well. Flying off the shelves, in fact.”
Ezekiel’s eyes sharpened. “It’s going to get people killed, and then you’ll really have the government shining a light up your ass.”
“If I can sell it, I don’t give a shit who it kills. Do you actually care about your customers, Ezekiel? Have you gone soft?”
Ezekiel raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me, but if I’m not mistaken, Broderick, killing off your buyers is a bad investment. Right now you’ve got these druggies climbing over dead bodies to get their fix, but eventually, you’ll run out of suicidal scum, and you’ll be left with an extinct clientele.”
“The difference between you and I, Ezekiel, is that you don’t take chances. I do. Anyone in this business has to be willing to take the risk.”
“The difference between you and me is that I think in the long term while you gamble away your profits on get-rich-quick schemes. Do you run your oil business like this? I’m shocked it hasn’t gone belly-up by now.”
Jerry sighed heavily and sat on the edge of his desk, dropping his gun-wielding arm between his thighs. “You don’t see, Ezekiel. I know that Blue Kitten will eventually lose its grip in the market when the death toll climbs. I know that the longer it stays on the market, the more notice I’ll draw from higher-ups. That’s why I’ll move on to the next fad in a few months—I just have to stay on my feet. It keeps me sharp.”
“Seems like a lot of work that’s not worth the benefits. I’ve developed a reliable income and a reputation for myself. I’m not going to go skipping around and throwing my money away to anyone who can create the next new super drug. I root myself and I find people I can trust—a system that works and a clientele that will last for years.”
“Amusing, isn’t it? I, the old man, am more interested in the next big thing, while you, a young man, want to stay rooted in tradition.” A predatory smile tweaked at Jerry’s lips. “The problem is, Ezekiel, staying put makes you too predictable. That’s why I’m pulling out of your operation and investing my funds elsewhere. If you want to milk this market, you’ve gotta stay three steps ahead of everyone else. It’s a tragedy, really. You’re one of the most promising young men I’ve seen in the business.” He lifted his gun slightly. “Which makes you dangerous competition.” His arm swung up and he pointed the pistol at Ezekiel’s head. “Competition I must eliminate.”
The King and the Courtesan Page 12