by Lucy Smoke
"Harlow," Knix's voice was tight and gruff. "What's happening?"
"I'm fine," I said. "I got away from the guy at the front door. Marv made it out towards the backyard, but I don't know where he is now." I relayed the information as quickly as possible, hoping it would not only help him to calm down—because I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was not at all happy with how this party had fallen apart almost immediately—but so that he could tell me what to do next as well. I was here, practically on my own, and I was floundering.
"Where are you now?" he demanded.
"First floor bathroom," I said, taking a glance around.
I grimaced at the dark slime around the bottom edges of the toilet where the base met the floor, but there wasn't anywhere else to step. It was one of those half-bathrooms with only a toilet and a sink. I turned and noted that the window above the toilet looked out across the side yard. The house next door had light blue siding and all of the lights were turned off. Briefly, I wondered if anyone lived there, and if so, did they care about the obviously loud party going on at their neighbor's house. Living next to a frat house must have been hell—I was sure there was a movie out there about it or something.
"Okay, I'm going to hand you over to Texas," Knix said. "He has a layout of the house and he'll let you know how to get out."
"Out?" I pulled the phone away from my ear and checked the screen. Nope. I was definitely talking to Knix. I put the phone back to my ear. "What the hell do you mean by 'out'?" I asked sharply. I had not just been manhandled by a frat boy just to sneak out of here with no more information than we walked in with. "What about the informant?"
"Let Marv handle it," Knix said. "If he can't find the informant then we'll regroup."
Fury lit up my insides. "No," I snapped. My hands shook, a fine tremble that echoed up my palms and into my arms. "No more regrouping. I'm not useless, Knix. Tell me what I can do. Send me a picture of the informant if you have to. If I'm in Iris, then I'm in. I'm a part of this team, right?" I didn't even give him a second to think about contradicting me. I kept speaking even as my heart thundered in my ears. "Stop thinking about me as a girl you like for two seconds and start thinking about me as someone who can pull their own weight. Whether you realize it or not, I can be both. If you don't want to use me then there's no use in me even being here. Why would you bring me if you weren't going to use me?" I was panting by the time I finished my rant. When I realized what I had just said, I paused and held my breath for a long moment. But I wasn't wrong. Maybe I hadn't realized it until that moment, but that was exactly what they had been treating me like.
I got it. They liked me. Hell, I fucking liked them too. I loved them. And yeah, that made my chest clench and my throat close up, but that didn't give them the right to treat me like I was a child. They kept using kid gloves until I pushed them to stop and it needed to come to an end. Right now.
Knix blew out a breath and I heard the phone move away as he spoke in low tones to the others. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but when he was back, my heart jumped from my ribcage up into my esophagus, waiting for what the results of my blow up would bring. If he ordered me to come back anyway, I didn't know what I would do. If they couldn't trust me with this, how could I continue to work with them? How could I even consider a relationship with any of them?
I held my breath.
"Little Bit..." His words slid through my ears and I squeezed my eyes closed. "Harlow." I swallowed against the emotion blocking my airways.
"Yeah?"
"Okay," he said. "You stay. I just had Bell text you an image of who you'll be looking for. We don't have a clear picture of the guy, it's from CCTV cameras, but hopefully, it'll give you a clear enough idea." He didn't sound happy, but he also didn't sound angry. Knix's voice was clearly resigned, but that was better than an absolute denial. Anything else, we could talk about and work through. I just needed a chance. As much as I cared about the guys, no matter who I was or what I had been through, I deserved that much at least.
"What do I do when I find him?" I asked.
"I'm going to hand you off to Grayson. He received information from Josh about this guy; he'll tell you how to approach."
"Okay." Even though he couldn't see me, I found myself instinctively nodding.
"And Harlow?"
"Yeah?" I bit my lip.
He cleared his throat. "Be careful. If you get in trouble, press my speed dial as fast as you fucking can. I don't give a shit about anything but your safety. Do you understand me?"
I inhaled sharply, my hand gripping the phone so hard, I was scared I would shatter it in my palm. "I'll be safe," I choked out. "I promise."
The sound of his breath in my ear was impossibly loud and then it was gone as the phone supposedly passed hands. My chest caved in, air rushing out of my mouth in a torrent as Grayson spoke next.
"Harlow?"
It took me a moment, but I managed to gulp down some more air before answering. "I'm here."
"Okay, so I assume with Marv there, he'll be keeping an eye on you. But just in case, I want you to approach this guy gently—okay?"
"No problem." Once again, I nodded even though he couldn't see me. Nervous habit? Perhaps.
"He's not a violent guy, so you really don't have anything to worry about. The biggest worry is the guy running. From what Josh said, he's a bit jumpy."
I snorted. "Maybe that comes from working for drug dealers and then betraying them to the authorities."
Grayson chuckled. "You could be right."
My eyes rolled. "You know I'm right."
"Yeah, yeah, smartass. Come on. Get your head in the game."
"I'm there," I said. "My head's in the game. Just tell me what to do and it's done."
"Alright, so here's the plan." I listened intently as Grayson told me everything that his brother had relayed to them about this informant. Across the bathroom, my eyes focused on the slow drip from the loose faucet as water dribbled into the sink bowl. I could do this. I handled Ms. Enders' camp and Margarie just fine. This would be a piece of cake. The only difference here was that someone I cared about was on the line and I couldn't let anything happen to her.
I focused on those dripping water droplets once more. "Got it," I said when Grayson was done.
"I believe in you, Babydoll," he said.
I smiled and just before hanging up, I replied, "Good."
Chapter 16
The image of Mark Kaval on my phone screen was secured back in my bra as I ran the water in the sink and then shook out my hands even though I really didn't need to clean them. Once I stepped out into the hallway and back into the fray it was as if earlier, with Kevin the Creeper, had never happened. Or perhaps everyone had gotten even more intoxicated while I was in the bathroom.
Whatever the case, I snagged a red solo cup filled halfway with beer and then teetered through the crowded rooms, plastering a loose smile on my face as though I, too, were just as drunk. Hands grazed my arms, touched the dark brown locks that fell around my shoulders and a few bolder ones even managed an ass grab or two. I grimaced when that happened, flicking glances back, but every time the perpetrators were always already gone by the time I looked.
I plunged further and further into the crowds of drunken frat boys and girls dressed similarly in tight cocktail numbers that showed more skin than they hid. Marv had been right, despite my discomfort with the dress and the heavier makeup I had donned, I did fit right in.
As I made my way into the kitchen, my eyes scanned the open space for Mark's face. There were several guys in pastel colored polo shirts and khaki pants. More than one had a thin, light-haired girl plastered to their side. Was I the only brunette? I wondered. It sure seemed that way. In fact, it felt like everyone at this entire party kind of looked alike. All of the guys dressed the same and all of the girls appeared to be stick thin with bleached hair. Was it just my imagination? I shook my head. It didn't matter. I wasn't here to critique their lack of originality. I was here to
find Mark, and as I passed by the back door, I found him.
Stepping outside, the warm air assaulted me. I hadn't realized how cold the air conditioning inside had been running until stepping outside felt like falling into a humid swamp. The fraternity's backyard lawn was immaculate despite the wavering guys attempting to toss tiny bean bags through holes carved into tilted boards. There was more than one couple in the midst of heavy make out sessions on both lawn furniture and the actual ground. Averting my eyes, I made my way through the small cliques of people standing around holding red solo cups like my own.
Just as I reached the guy with a light green polo shirt that had a horse logo on the breast and navy-blue pants, my ankle gave out and I went flying to the ground. My red solo cup flew out of my hands, splashing whatever the contents had been—a yellowish liquid—down his back. He jumped and whirled around.
"Ohmygosh!" I cried, quickly regaining my feet. "I'm so sorry!" I blinked big, innocent eyes up at him and grimaced as I touched his soaked sleeve. "That's so my fault," I said.
Mark lifted his arm and rubbed a hand through his dark hair as his oak-brown eyes met mine. He wasn't unattractive, but he certainly had nothing on any of the guys around him. In fact, he appeared to be the runt of the litter. While his friends appeared to be somewhere around six foot in height, he barely stood a few inches above me.
"Can I help you get a new shirt?" I asked, fluttering my eyes.
"Get it, boy!" One of the others snickered, shoving him in the arm.
Mark stumbled, a flush stealing across his cheeks and for a fleeting moment, I felt kind of bad about tricking him. But it wasn't like he was really an innocent college student. He worked for some pretty nasty people, and he certainly couldn't be trusted by his employers either if he was going behind their backs to talk to the police.
"Uh, yeah, sure," he said. I smiled brightly and wrapped a hand around his arm, ready to drag him away—as Grayson had told me to—before I could interrogate him.
"Hey, wait before you go," one of the guys—an older guy, by the looks of him, with crescent shadows under his gaunt face and a pallid complexion—stopped our retreat. "Do you have any candy with you?"
My brows lowered. What the heck? Candy? Why would he want...realization shocked me as a few others in the group began shifting from side to side, their eyes flicking back and forth between them. Mark appeared to straighten, his eyes sharpening into razors when just before he seemed like nothing more than a nerdy college kid who let his frat boyfriends fuck around with him. "We'll talk when I get back," he snapped, then he grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the group. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar head of dark brown hair and steel gray eyes. Marv watched as Mark Kaval dragged me from the back lawn to the sliding glass doors and once again I was back inside with a guy I didn't know at my side, freezing as the air conditioning slid across my naked skin. I said I could handle this and I was bound to prove that I could.
Mark tugged me behind him, to the same staircase Marv had used earlier and up to the second floor. Once we reached the landing he pushed me into a door on the right and straight into a small bedroom with nothing more than a queen-sized bed and a few boxes.
"Alright, what do you want?" he demanded.
My eyes widened. "W-what do you mean?" I asked.
"I'm not fucking stupid," he snapped. "Girls like you wear heels like that all the time and you did not just fall against my back on accident." As he spoke, he moved around me—keeping his gaze trained on my form next to the bed. He pulled another shirt from one of the boxes and tossed it on the coverlet before dragging the one on his chest up and over his head.
"Girls like me?" I stepped back and smacked into the door, the wood rattling against my spine. I slipped my hand into my bra and pulled out my phone, keeping it in my palm just in case. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Mark grabbed his new shirt, threw it on, and moved towards me. My finger slid up to Knix's speed dial number when Mark snagged my wrist. My phone clattered to the floor as fear punched me in the gut. I was alone in a room with an unknown man who was most definitely a drug dealer. Sure, he looked a little slender and nerdy down at the party—like he couldn’t hurt a damn fly. But I hadn’t missed the muscles of his back and stomach when he had removed his shirt earlier. If he wanted to, I knew he could hurt me.
Mark's other hand landed next to my head. "Now," he said, "tell me the fucking truth. Who are you? And what do you want?" His dark eyes slid down my form and I sucked in a sharp breath.
I wished one of the guys was here with me. Where was Marv? Had he followed? What was I supposed to do now? Did I continue to follow through with the plan?
"Are you g-going to hurt me?" My breath rushed out of me in spurts and I couldn’t seem to draw enough air in. God, I hoped I didn’t pass out.
He frowned down at me and scowled. "No, I'm not gonna fucking hurt you. Just tell me what the fuck you want and who sent you?"
I swallowed, closing my eyes before quickly reopening them. "You work for H. B. Holdings," I said quickly before I could think better of it, "and there's a girl, Erika is her name. She's my best friend and they have her because her boyfriend owes them money and I know that you talk to the police about them—I know that you deal drugs for them—and I need to know what you know so that I can find her. I need to find her. Please help me."
Mark looked almost shocked, but not quite. It's like he wasn't sure what he thought I was going to say, but he wasn’t entirely surprised. "Joshua Caruso?" he asked, and I sighed in relief, nodding.
Mark backed away and, slowly, I bent down to pick up my phone. My heart was still racing a thousand miles per second, but at least the initial danger had passed...somewhat. When Mark remained quiet for a long, awkward moment, I decided to chance it again. "So, can you help me?"
Instead of answering, Mark moved closer and I slid away—inching along the empty wall. I moved away from the door as Mark stepped in front of it. My eyes widened as his hand closed around the knob and he jerked, causing Marv to tumble into the room—eyes angry, fists up. "No, please come in," Mark said, sarcasm heavy in his tone. "Make yourself at home."
Marv glared at Mark and I couldn't help but feel a tingle of relief at seeing him. Marv continued to keep him in his sights as he moved across the room, keeping himself between me and the other man before he finally reached me. "Are you okay?" he whispered as he got near. I nodded sharply.
With a snap of his wrist, Mark swung the door closed again and reclined against it as though he had all the time in the world and no desire to move from the only exit—other than the window over the bed that was surely many feet off the ground.
"Smart of you to get me alone," he said. "Someone must have helped you. Let me guess, you've got people in the house?"
Neither Marv nor I said anything. We didn't, but he didn't need to know that.
"If you want my help, you usually do that by opening your mouth and asking." Those ice cold, dark eyes slide over the both of us, his lip curling downward again.
Marv and I glanced at each other before turning back to the man watching us warily. "I asked," I said, proud of how steady my voice sounded and how I managed to keep my gaze trained on him. "So, what's your answer?"
Mark's scowl morphed into a smirk. "You want me to help your friend, is that right?"
I shook my head, though I did edge closer to Marv and he put his arm around my shoulders, drawing me in protectively. A fluttering of butterflies erupted in my stomach and I squashed them down.
"You don't have to do anything," I informed him. "You just have to tell us where H. B. Holdings might hold her until she signs their contract."
"She hasn't signed a contract yet?" he asked, confusion sliding over his face. "But you said that they picked her up as payment for her boyfriend's debt?"
I nodded. "Why? Is that bad?" I regretted the words immediately. Stupid question. Of course, it was bad. He looked at me as though he thought I was dumb, but oh well—
I was stressed, could he really blame me?
"Yeah, it's fucking bad," he snapped. "If they picked her up and she refuses to sign their damn contract, they're not gonna keep her around long. They're gonna take her out."
"Take her out out?" I squeaked, my hands reaching up and squeezing a fistful of Marv's shirt. Marv's hand clasped mine.
This was not happening. Never, in a million years, would I have predicted standing here in the middle of a frat party in a skimpy dress, trying to save my friend from being murdered or forced to sell herself with the help of a drug dealer. Nope. I definitely would not have guessed this.
"What do you mean?" Marv asked.
Mark rolled his eyes and strolled across the room, back towards the boxes. He reached into one closer to the floor and pulled out a few papers. "H. B. Holdings usually takes their girls out to scare them a bit." He paused to glance over his shoulder at me, lifting a brow. "On the water," he clarified. I wrinkled my nose. How was I supposed to know that? As if he could read my thoughts, Mark shook his head. "You must watch too many damn mafia movies."
The Godfather had been my brother's favorite movie when we were kids...I shook my head. "So, they'll take her out on a lake somewhere?" I asked.
He shook his head, going back to sift through the pile of papers he had pulled. The music from below pounded up through the floorboards, distracting me. "No, the ocean," he said.
I gaped at him. The ocean?! How the hell would we find them if that happened?
"When?" Marv asked. "Do you have a timeline of when they would do this? She's been with them for several days now."
Mark turned towards us, snagging what looked like a crinkled map, and smoothed it out against his upper thigh. "Then soon, if not within the next night or two," he said. "They probably shouldn't have waited this long to do it. She could already be out there for all I know."
"What do they do out there?" I can't help but inquire. "I mean, to scare the girls."
Mark slides a look my way. "What do you think they do?" he sneered.