by Layla Frost
The blood was already gone from my desk, and the scent of disinfectant hung thick in the air. The carpet was sudsy with cleaner.
“How is she?” Vera asked, looking up from her supply tray. She grabbed a scrub brush before switching it out for a larger one.
“She’s good.”
“Of course. We’re women. Women are always strong.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “You got your Ruger?”
She smiled and lifted her pant leg to show her ankle holster. “Women are also always prepared.”
“Good. Marco is on his way. I want everyone locked in until I get back.”
Approaching, she patted my cheek the way my mom used to—as though I were a mischievous little boy and not a grown man with murder on his mind. “Be safe.” Her features tightened, ruthlessness taking over. “But do what you have to do to make sure you and Juliet continue to be safe.”
“That’s the plan.”
She turned and pulled on gloves before crouching to clean the blood from the carpet, as though it were nothing more than spilled wine. “Then once it’s settled, you can get started making beautiful babies.”
Jesus.
Leave it to Vera to be blunt.
It wasn’t the first time I’d thought about putting my baby in Juliet, but I was a selfish fucker. I wanted her to myself for a while longer.
Shaking my head, I backtracked to the bedroom just as Juliet finished getting dressed.
I closed the distance between us and cupped her head before kissing her hard. “Be good.”
“Never.” At my look, she rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
I started to step away but she gripped my lapels, worry evident on her pretty face. “Be careful.”
“I’d never let anyone take me from you.”
With one last kiss, I headed downstairs just as Marco arrived.
“What happened?” he asked.
I recapped Janson-number-two’s visit and the Dobrow connection.
Scowl growing, Marco remained silent while I spoke. Once I was done, he shook his head. “Fuck.”
That summed it up.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Target
Maximo
WALKING INTO THE plant, I went straight to the limp body hanging from a meat hook by his bound wrists. I slowly circled him. He’d been stripped to his underwear to check for wires, trackers, or anything else he may have hidden.
I wasn’t surprised there was nothing. Dobrow wouldn’t shell out for pricey tracking equipment since he didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. Janson wasn’t smart enough to take any precautions—the dumb fucker had rented a car with his own license just to feel like a big shot.
Ash had bandaged Janson’s eyes, but it wasn’t out of care. It was so he didn’t die or pass out before we learned what we needed.
“You work fast,” I said.
Ash’s smirk was at odds with the rage on his face. “It’s not work when you love what you do.”
I looked at where Cole sat with his computer. “The rental?”
“Wiped and dumped.” He typed before speaking again. “William Janson. Thirty-five. Born in Carson City. Did time for possession of drugs and illegal weapons, and then again for petty theft and grand larceny.” He looked up from the screen at Janson. “You overachiever, you.”
“How do you know all that?” Janson asked, his words slurred from the pain and the adrenaline crash.
“I’m that good.” Cole paused before adding, “Also, public records are public, dumbass.”
I circled Janson again, purposefully making my steps louder. With each footfall that sounded around him, his body grew tenser as he braced.
Finally, he lifted his head. “Even if I had something to say, you’re going to kill me. So just get it over with.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I shook off my suit jacket, hanging it on the back of a chair before rolling my sleeves.
Starting slow, I worked his torso.
Hook to the kidney.
Pause.
Two quick jabs to the chest, knocking the wind out of him.
A longer pause.
Another two hooks to the same kidney.
I made noise as I moved back, just for Ash to step in quietly with a surprise uppercut and a jab followed quickly by a right cross to the mouth.
Janson drooled blood down his chin. “I don’t even know anything.”
“Christ, I hate liars.”
I came back in with more body shots until he was groaning and swaying. Taking a break so he didn’t pass out, I grabbed a water bottle and leaned against the table. I glanced at Cole’s computer screen. “What’ve you got?”
“He’s been working as a bouncer at Ace in the Hole for the past three years.”
Ace in the Hole was one of Dobrow’s unsubtly named strip clubs.
“He was dating a dancer for a while, but… oof, tough break. Bunni is currently shacked up with the bartender.”
“She’s what?” Janson bellowed. His moment of outrage must’ve taken all his energy because he drooped. His weight pulled at his arms and shoulders, doing our work for us.
“Do you not follow her online?” Cole asked
“She blocked me.”
He gave a low whistle. “I can see why. Lotta X-rated pics of her and her new man.”
“That cunt.”
Cole laughed. “Funny ‘cause according to her Facebook post, she caught you in bed with one of the other dancers.”
“It’s different for men,” he scoffed.
“It’s not,” I said, not that it mattered for him anymore.
Since Janson was no longer on the verge of passing out, Ash and I resumed working him. We took turns, waiting and striking. Manipulating his mind as much as his body.
I took another break. Drank my water. Circled him.
Played with my target.
“I can keep going,” I told him. “Not for hours or days. I can keep you here and alive for weeks. Broken bones healing painfully wrong. Wounds becoming infected until your flesh festers and rots. I’ll keep patching you up just to tear you apart again.”
His body shook, his pulse visibly racing as his breaths came in sharp pants. Terror wafted from him.
Opening his mouth, saliva mixed with blood and vomit dripped down his chin. “Go for it,” he forced out. “While you do, Viktor will be using your whore for weeks. And then he’ll tear her apart. Mutilate her until a disfigured shell is all that’s left. You deserve it for what you did to my brother.”
My hand hovered over my gun, everything in me screaming to make him eat a bullet. But getting answers was more important, so I didn’t kill him.
I hurt him.
Putting my thumbs to his bandaged eyes, I pressed. His shrieks echoed around us until he was choking on them.
Easing the pressure, I asked, “What does Juliet have to do with this?”
He sobbed, bloody tears leaking through the bandages.
I glanced at Ash. “Serrated knife and needle-nose pliers.”
A lot of men could take a punch, especially if they were used to it. True pain was a different matter.
Janson gulped hard, his lips pressing together until the skin around them turned white.
A moment later, Ash handed me what I’d asked for, purposefully making them clink together. I ran the rough edge of the knife across Janson’s side, just hard enough to sting and make blood pebble. I eased it away, watching Janson slump before I dragged the blade harder, slicing open his skin. His screeches grew louder as I cut again, drawing an X.
Pushing the cold pliers against the gashes, I said, “I wonder how much skin I can peel from his body before he passes out.”
I pinched the bloody skin between the tip of the pliers and began to pull.
“Wait!” Janson screamed, nearly hyperventilating. He angled his body away from me. “If I tell you what I know, will you let me go? I’ll move across the country. You’ll never see me again.” His earlier bra
vado was long gone as he sobbed, his voice thick as it cracked. “My brother was an asshole. Viktor is a greedy prick. I don’t want to die for either of them.”
“You’ll tell me everything?”
“All of it. Just don’t kill me.” His body shook, rattling the hook above his head, which only made him shake worse. “I don’t want to die,” he wailed over and over.
“Tell me.”
“You won’t kill me?”
“Not if you tell me everything.”
His head fell forward, his chest heaving. “Shamus owed Dobrow. A lot. More than he could pay.”
A sinking pit filled my gut as ice water flowed through my veins. “And?”
“And he gave his daughter as payment.”
Why am I surprised? Even from the grave, he makes Juliet’s life hell.
I should’ve brought that motherfucker here instead of going easy on him with a quick bullet between his eyes.
Not for the first time, I thought about how lucky it was that my little dove had shown herself that day.
God knew what she would’ve faced had I not taken her.
“We thought Shamus took her away to protect her,” Janson continued. “When Viktor pressed Mugsy Carmichael to find them, Mugsy told him he suspected you killed Shamus.”
I thought about Carmichael’s visit to my office. He’d acted concerned about Juliet but had only wanted to trade her to save his own ass.
“What else?” I asked.
“We watched and waited for a while before Viktor got bored and moved on. But then word got around you did have the girl, and he got interested again.” He paused, wheezing. “I need water.”
Rolling his eyes, Ash grabbed a bottle and poured it down his throat like he was waterboarding him.
Janson turned his head and coughed, bloody spittle shooting everywhere.
“Why’d you come today?” I asked once he quieted.
“To offer Carmichael and set a meeting.” He took a shuddering breath. “And to scope out your place to see how to break in.”
Juliet was smart. Sweet. Funny. She was ballsy and adventurous and stubborn and creative and ambitious and beautifully submissive in her gilded cage.
But Viktor didn’t know any of that.
“Why all that effort for one woman?”
“To get back at you. You have power. Clout. He wanted to use that to expand his reach, but instead, you banned him and others followed. He lost connections and money. Two of his clubs went under. He blames you. You took from him. He wants to take from you.”
Guilt sat heavy on my shoulders. Her old man may have been the one to put a target on her back, but dragging Juliet into my life had grown it.
“Anything else?” I asked, fighting to reign in my rage and guilt.
“That’s it. That’s all I know.” He inhaled deep before shaking his bound hands. “Now let me go.”
“Where’s Dobrow now?” I asked Cole.
Janson thought I was talking to him. “I dunno, probably one of his clubs. I can give you a list.”
Cole clicked a few buttons then turned the computer so I could see. A map took up the screen, a blinking light flashing. “He was bouncing around to some of his clubs earlier, but he’s been here for a while—All or Nothing.”
“Another strip club?” I guessed.
“His most popular because the girls do more than dance,” Janson shared. “He does a lot of his business out of a backroom. The only door on the right.”
Cole closed his computer and packed his gear. Ash had already locked up the tools and was heading for the door, ready to go.
Janson must’ve figured out we were leaving because his head jerked around despite the fact he couldn’t see. “Wait! What about me?” He rattled the hook, thrashing his body. It was pointless, he’d never get free.
Even if he did, once the door locked behind us, there was no opening it. He’d be trapped.
I was just stepping out when he screamed, “You said you’d let me go!”
Looking over my shoulder, my lips curved into a cruel smile he couldn’t see. “I lied.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Highway To Hell
Maximo
WHAT A PISSHOLE.
Parked around the corner from All or Nothing, I felt like I needed a shower, and I hadn’t even stepped foot inside. The entire area was rundown—blocks of abandoned buildings and discarded trash.
“We sure he’s in there?” Ash asked.
“Don’t let Cole hear you doubt him or he’ll thoroughly explain the cell tracking process until your eyes glaze over.”
He grimaced. “Forget I asked.”
We had eyes on the front door and Cole was parked around back, watching that exit and the tracker for movement. Unless there was a hidden tunnel we didn’t know about, Dobrow was inside.
Ash drummed on the steering wheel, already wired. “What’s the plan?”
What I wanted to do was walk in, empty my magazine into Dobrow, then go home to Juliet. Unfortunately, the packed club ensured that wasn’t an option.
“Wait until everyone leaves, snatch Dobrow, get out before I catch something from the air.” Taking out my cell, I texted Marco.
Me: Everything good?
Marco: Quiet. Vera roped Juliet into watching another chick flick.
Me: Call if anything changes.
It took a handful of hours for the cars to clear out. It was another hour before the staff left. The place was dark and quiet.
It was time.
I messaged Cole.
Me: Heading in the front.
Cole: I’ll go in the back.
“Ready?” I asked Ash as I pulled on gloves. But he was already gloved up and heading out.
Ash and I stuck to the shadows as we made our way to the door. He aimed his gun at the lock. “Pick it or shoot it?”
I pulled the handle, and the door swung open.
He shrugged. “Or do it the boring way, that’s fine.”
We walked into the main room of the darkened club, the stench of sex, body odor, cheap perfume, and alcohol saturating everything. Heading past the large mirrored stage, I pushed through the swinging door to the long hall. Cole was already positioned in the open doorway at the other end, a grimace locked on his face. I only had to wait a moment to figure out why.
The sounds of skin slapping and fake moans came from behind a door on the left. It wasn’t the one Janson had told us about, but it also didn’t sound like Dobrow was conducting business.
Ash mimed gagging.
Reaching out, I turned the handle and opened the door, bracing for whatever horror awaited.
I didn’t brace enough.
Rather than Dobrow, it was a naked and sweaty Carmichael banging a bored stripper from behind. His body jiggled with each thrust.
That time when Ash gagged, it wasn’t mimed.
“Maximo!” Carmichael stopped and scurried back, flashing everything in the process.
“Never say my name while you’re naked.” I wanted to turn away, but I wasn’t stupid—just scarred for life. “Jesus Christ, I’ll never get this image out of my head.”
The stripper flopped down and yawned, her dazed gaze aimed toward the desk. It took two-point-five seconds to realize she was high as a kite.
Anyone fucking Carmichael would have to be.
Ash went back into the hall as I stalked across the small, makeshift bedroom. I checked Carmichael’s pants for a weapon before throwing them and his shirt at him. “Get dressed.”
Unstable and shaking, he struggled to put them on, already starting his excuses. “I can explain. It’s Viktor. I owe—”
“Where is he?” I asked. “His Escalade’s here.”
“It needs new brakes and repairs. He’s driving a Benz.”
“Rooms are empty,” Ash said. “His cell is charging in his office.”
Shit.
There was a possibility Janson not returning had tipped Dobrow off. There was also the possibility w
hile I was staking out his place, Dobrow was doing the same to mine.
Panic shot through me. My place may have been Fort Knox with two people armed and on guard, but shit happened. Even with every precaution, something could go wrong.
I pulled my cell out, but Cole’s blockers meant no signal.
“Cole, check in with Marco,” I called, knowing his setup could bypass them.
“On it.”
Returning my focus to Carmichael, I asked, “Where would he go?”
He rapidly shook his head, looking two seconds from a heart attack. “He collects bank from his other clubs at the end of the night, but I don’t know where he’d go after. We’re not actually friends. I was only getting close to keep Juliet safe. He wants to sell her.”
“The same Juliet you tried to kidnap?” Ash bit out.
“That was to protect her, too.” His eyes shot back to me. “I didn’t know you were serious about her, I thought she was—”
“I heard exactly what you thought. Now shut the fuck up.”
If he was smart, he’d have listened.
But no one could ever accuse Mugsy Carmichael of being smart.
“I was wrong, I see that now.” He held his hands up in surrender. “But my intentions were good.”
Ash strolled closer, but Carmichael’s eyes were on me and the gun in my hand.
Another mistake in a worthless lifetime of them.
“Don’t you know what they say about good intentions?” Ash pulled a syringe from his pocket. “They pave the highway to hell.”
Carmichael finally looked to the side, but it was too late. Ash jabbed a needle into his neck and within seconds, he was down. His unconscious body dropped like a sweaty bag of bricks onto the still naked stripper.
“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes,” I told Ash.
“I was ad-libbing.”
I glanced around to figure out how we were going to get him out of there. “You couldn’t have waited until he carried himself to the car?”
“He was annoying me.”
Even wearing gloves, I touched as little of the DNA splattered blanket as possible, spreading it on the floor. I’d barely gotten it positioned when the stripper got some life back into her and gleefully shoved Carmichael onto it.