Worthy of You: Book One in The Haze Nightclub Series

by Kandee Reyna

  “I’m in a meeting, but I’m never too busy for you.” He says low. “Let Ray give you a ride; think of all the extra food you can buy and not have to carry home.”

  “Cause that’s what I need while I’m riding around in a plush backseat to go around the block, more food.”

  “Baby, I have to get back to work. Let Ray drive you. It’s for your own safety.”

  “Well, tough shit. I’m capable of handling my own, I have for some time now. Plus, Krysta made a good point earlier,” She perks up next to me when she hears her name. “If she doesn’t need a babysitter for the men her father works with, why do I need one? How much different could it be? We’re walking.” I state firmly.

  “Renee.” His voice is clipped and toes the edge of anger. “You’ll accept the fucking ride. I don’t give two fucking shits what Mayell does for his daughter, she’s not mine. You, are mine, and you’ll ride in a jet to the fucking store if I think it’ll keep you safe.”

  “You’re insane!” I stomp my foot like he can see me.

  “What did he say? Ree! What did he say?” Krysta’s getting a little too much excitement out of the entire thing and I ignore her inquiries.

  “Just fucking humor me, Angel.”

  “Whatever, Lo.”

  “See you tonight, baby.” He says sweetly. I hang up before he has a chance to, handing the phone back to Anthony.

  “See if I ever feed you again.” I roll my eyes and open the door to the backseat before he can reach for the handle. I can see the annoyance scroll across his face before he shakes his head and tries to conceal a smile. “Come on, Krysta. Looks like we’re going for a ride.”

  “Seriously?! Tell these idiots to fuck off. We can walk. You didn’t even tell me what he said!” Now it was her turn to stomp her foot.

  “Get in and I’ll tell you.” I smile innocently up at her.

  “Ugh! Fine.” She slides into the seat next to me, and Anthony shuts the door, muffling the sounds of the street, making his way back to his side. He climbs in his already open door, shutting it softly, and jerks into traffic without so much as a glance back in our direction.

  “He just reminded me that he wants me to take the car for my safety. That’s all.”

  “Not as juicy as I was hoping.”

  “Well, you get what ya get.” I shrug.

  “Anthony?” I call over the front seat, a little extra sugar in my tone.

  “Hmm?” Still no eye contact.

  “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time, and I promise to always feed you… and I’m sorry if I got you in trouble.”

  “Don’t worry, Miss Moran, I’ll be fine.”

  We pull up to the store, and Krysta and I jump out, telling Anthony we shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes. This time, instead of getting back in his seat, he shuts the door and leans against the car facing the entrance of the store.

  “I’ll be here.” He states curtly. We both nod in agreement and head inside the store.

  “He’s so serious. It’s kinda hot.” Krysta says as we leave the heat of outside and step into the cool of the store.

  I laugh, “Right, if you’re into the daddy-type. He’s like fifty, Krysta!”

  “Mmm… I could go for a silver fox.”

  “Gross! You’re a fucking mess.” I reply, turning toward the produce section. “Let’s have big salads and chicken for dinner tonight. I’ve been eating like shit with Lo.”

  “Is ‘big salads’ code for the silver fox? If so, I’m sooo down.”

  “Shut up! Oh, my God! I swear Krysta, you’re such a damn freak!”

  “The old ones usually like it freaky. I’ll go grab a bottle of wine to go with. I’m sure they’ll have something that pairs nicely.” She winks and slinks off to the back of the store, leaving me alone with the vegetables.

  I bag carrots, cucumbers, and tomatoes for the salad, and reach for the avocados when someone moves into my peripheral vision. He’s tall, way over six feet, and has tattoos that spiral up his neck and over his face. There’s two faces, one happy and one sad, tattooed on either side of his bald head. His ice-blue eyes look too light for his dark skin and the black lashes that frame them make them glow menacingly. He’s close, too close, so I take a step back looking to either side of me, but we’re alone.

  “Excuse me,” I say, trying to side step him. Forget the avocado. We’ll live without it.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Renee.” Panic grips me, turning the blood in my veins to a painful sludge, when I hear my name roll off his tongue, thick with an accent I don’t immediately recognize. My mouth goes dry, and I grip the basket in my hand harder, my knuckles turning white.

  “How do you know my name?” I take another step back, but he follows, his long stride bringing him closer again. He reaches his hand out to touch my face, and I flinch away from him. A chuckle that sounds more like a growl comes deep from his throat, but his face doesn’t change, and fear races through me. I’m frozen in place, I lick my dry lips preparing to scream.

  “I know more than your name, Renee. Maybe soon I’ll have you calling mine as you bounce on my cock.”

  My face morphs from fear to revulsion, and I rear back to slap him, but he catches my hand, twisting it until I cry out. He pulls me closer to him, pressing his lips to my ear, and vomit pools in my throat, threatening to come up. He smells of cheap cigarettes and harsh liquor, vodka I think. “I like it rough, Krasivaya, and I love a good fight. You’ll find out soon enough.” He lets go of my hand and I retch, my mouth filling with the bitter taste of my vomit and I drop my basket to the floor. He huffs another laugh as I launch by body away from him, pulling clean air into my lungs, trying to rid my senses of his stench. “Tell Mr. Turner hello for me.”

  He picks my basket up, dropping the bag of avocados he collected into it and holds it out to me. I timidly take it from him, and he pivots on his heel, leaving me shaking as I watch him stalk out of the store. As soon as he exits, I see Anthony come running inside, panic bending his face downward in fear, until he makes eye contact with me and relief replaces the alarm. He has his phone pressed to his ear while he sprints toward me. I’m still rooted to my spot and Krysta comes around the corner making it to me at the same time.

  “She’s okay but shaken.” I hear him say into the phone.

  “Really!? Did Lo call and tell you we couldn’t even go inside the store alone?” Her eyes move from Anthony to me and her face drops, “What’s wrong, Honey?” She takes the basket from my hands and sets it on the ground, then rubs her hands over my shoulders, it’s not even close to enough to warm the chill that’s settled on my skin.

  “Mr. Turner would like to speak with you.” He hands me the phone.

  Tears spill over my lower lids as I take it, pressing it to my ear. “Milo?”

  “Baby, are you okay?” He sounds frantic, angry.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give you such a hard time about Anthony.”

  “It’s fine baby, it’s fine. Did he touch you?”

  “N-No. Well, yes, but I’m fine. He just scared me.”

  “Who scared you? What happened?” Krysta is loud, and a few people who’ve just come in stare in our direction.

  “I don’t know who he was,” I turn my attention to her, shaking my head. The fear gripping me must be apparent in my eyes, because her face goes soft, and she adopts a calm demeanor, being my calm in the storm.

  “What did he say, Renee?” Milo asks, bringing me back to him.

  “He um… he knew my name.” My voice cracks, “and um… he told me I’d be calling his name while I bounced on…” I wince, “his cock. I tried to slap him, but he grabbed my wrist, then said to tell you hello.” The adrenaline in my body starts to take over, my tears stop, and I begin to feel more composed. Nothing like a shitty situation to pull your nerves together.

  “God-fucking-damn-it!” I hear something smash in the background. I flinch at the sound, holding the phone away from my ear.

  Kryst
a puts her arms around me, yelling into the phone. “Chill the fuck out, Turner, she’s already scared enough!”

  “Shit, I know. I’m sorry baby. Anthony’s going to bring you home to me, and I’ll be there to meet you. Please, don’t fight me on this.” Milo croons in my ear.

  “No, I won’t.” Tears well in my eyes again, but I blink them away. “I’m scared, Lo. Who the fuck was that?”

  “I’ll explain everything to you when you get to the house. I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” His voice is strained and haunted; it rips at my soul.

  “I know. I’ll see you soon.” I pass the phone back to Anthony, and he pockets it, picking up my basket and taking Krysta’s.

  “This way ladies, let’s get you back in the car.” We abandon the baskets at the counter and head out the door. Anthony’s holding each of our arms on either side of him, letting go only to open the door and usher us into the backseat. He looks visibly relieved once we’re inside and he’s seated behind the wheel. His eyes scan all around him, before checking his mirrors. He’s being overly cautious and I’m grateful. I feel like such a bitch for giving him a hard time earlier.

  Krysta reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing my fingers. “It’s gonna be alright. I love you, girl.”

  “Love you too.”

  “Guess I owe Lo an apology.” She gives a weak smile.

  “Nah.” I scrunch my nose. “Never admit defeat.”

  She gives a husky laugh, “Yeah, you’re right. Anthony, please leave me at the apartment.” He nods his head in response, slowing to a stop at the curb in front of the entrance to our building.

  “What? No! Come with me to Lo’s!”

  “No way, chickee. I’ll be fine. If I start to feel worried, I’ll have Daddy send one of his guys over to watch the building. Plus, I have company coming over tonight.” She winks at me as Anthony opens her door.

  “Krysta.” I scold.

  “I’ll be fine! Don’t worry about it. Go, see your man. He’s worried about you.” She starts to get out, but stops, and looks at me. “You okay?” Her eyes crinkle.

  “If I say no, will you come with me?”

  She rolls her eyes. “You know I will, but are you okay?”

  I exhale loudly, “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Exhaustion steals the adrenaline I was using to hold myself together. “Go, but don’t watch the newest Pretty Little Liars without me.” I smile, willing myself to hold off the tears until she’s gone.

  “Oh, I won’t be watching T.V. tonight.” She tosses over her shoulder before disappearing into the building.

  Chapter Twenty-six: Lo

  “Hold all of my calls until tomorrow morning. If someone asks, it’s a family emergency. Anyone who actually needs to get ahold of me has my personal number.” I don’t even stop walking to make sure Trish hears me as I make my way out of the office. Max meets me in the parking garage, a dangerous spark reflects from his dark eyes. He’s fucking pissed, but so am I. Dmitry’s bullshit has gone too far. I will kill the motherfucker that put his hands on Renee. Max has already pulled the footage at the store. The guy that grabbed her was Dmitry’s number one muscle, Andrei. He’s wanted in Russia for hate-crimes and rape. He’s a fucking evil son-of-a-bitch. The information that Max pulled up on him from the dark web is stomach turning. I have no doubt he would take pleasure in forcing Renee to do what he said.

  “He’s mine.” I tell Max as he pulls out of the garage. “If your men get him, I want him, alive.”

  “It’s a done deal.” He turns onto the highway. “I’m calling in a friend of mine. He’s got a team of specially-trained men willing to do shit under the table for the right price.”

  “Whatever they want.” I state coldly.

  We drive the rest of the way in silence. The look on Renee’s face when he grabbed her keeps creeping into my mind. The way her eyes widened and her chest heaved with the force of vomit. The look of confusion when he first spoke to her. The terror when he grabbed her wrist and twisted it, and the way she cried out when he turned it to an unnatural angle. My blood pounds in my ears and I squeeze my fists, trying to alleviate the stress that’s clutching my chest.

  “She’s fine, Lo.” Max breaks into my thoughts.

  “This whole thing is fucked up.”

  “I know man, she’ll understand, bro.”

  “I hope so.” He voiced what I was too scared to say. I’m afraid she’ll walk away. Get spooked by the reality of dealing with the scum of the city that infiltrates my life. I’m attached. The blackened vines of my world are wrapping around her lush, green life and I worry I’ll strangle her, but I also can’t let go. My poisoned problems are taking root in her sunlight, and I refuse to deprive them or myself, because I’m a selfish asshole; a selfish asshole that always gets what he wants.

  We pull up to the house, and I jump out before the Tahoe’s in park, rushing through the door to get to her. It’s quiet inside, Anthony is sitting at the island on a barstool, and Renee is settled on the couch with Loretta. They’re speaking quietly and she’s sipping a steaming mug. Their eyes shift to me as the door shuts, and something in my chest cracks when our eyes meet. Tears threaten to spill over the rims of her eyes and they’re the lightest shade of blue. Jagged lines of white shoot out from her pupils in a wave like pattern. The dark rings around her irises appear almost black in contrast. She’s so damn perfect in her cut off jean-shorts and her ripped Nirvana t-shirt that hangs off her shoulder, showing off her creamy almond skin. Her curls are wild around her face and she places her mug on the table moving toward me. Her body huddles into my chest and she shakes with a silent sob. I swallow the lump that’s in my throat and pull her tight against me, shushing her. Her emotions are so beautiful and real. Everything on full display from her anger to her tears, to the happiness she feels for small things like a cup of coffee in the morning. Everything I’m not. Light to my dark.

  I’m right here, Angel.” My words are heavy with meaning and affection that feels comfortable in my chest, though I’ve never experienced anything like it before. “I’m right here, baby.” I release my grip on her with one hand, and run it up and down her spine, comforting her in the only way I know how— by touching her. My eyes shift up when I see movement in my peripheral vision; Loretta and Anthony are moving toward the stairs, leaving us alone in the living room.

  “I’m sorry I gave you shit about Anthony.” She croaks, swallowing hard, pulling back and wiping her face.

  I run my knuckles across her cheek, “I love your fire, baby.” Love… love.

  She gives a little huff that’s meant to be a laugh, “I don’t know what I’d have done if Anthony hadn’t been outside. He had to have known Anthony was there, right?”

  I grimace, “Probably. These guys know what they’re doing. Games like these are natural to them. Intimidation is king in their fucked-up world.”

  She pulls back, standing taller. “Well, they can go fuck themselves. I don’t know what they’re trying to achieve, but I can promise making me cry isn’t doing it for them.”

  If only she knew they’re willing to do more than just make her cry if they get the chance. “I need you to take some time off work and school. You’re not going out right now.”

  “The fuck? I’m not hiding from these pricks, Lo. They scared me, yes, but I’m going to pick myself back up in a few hours and move on with my life. I won’t let them scare me into a corner.”

  “Renee, these guys aren’t interested in just scaring you. They mean the things they say. I promise you that.”

  “And I mean it when I say I refuse to let them corner me like some animal. What do they want, anyway?”

  I let out a sigh, “Sit.” I gesture to the spot she was in before I came home, and I sit next to her. “Todos Santos, a street gang here in the city, has held authority over the streets here and in the surrounding area since before I can remember. A few years ago, a man, Dmitry, moved in, with his eyes set on expanding his… trade… in Syracuse and more specifically, H
amilton. It’s small enough to stay off the radar and full of college students; supply and demand all in one place.

  “Todos Santos refused to cut a deal with him, so he’s begun moving on his own. Trying to buy his way in and force his way when money doesn’t work. The thing is, most people fear TS, so they refuse him. Willing to deal with the consequences of turning him down, as long as they don’t have to answer to TS and Rey, their leader, and my friend. Dmitry has had his eyes set on me for a few years now. In short, he wants my properties, or to buy in. I’ve refused him continually, and he’s never really had any leverage on me. He’s busted up a few of my strip clubs—”

  “You have strip clubs?” She cuts me off, with a disgusted look on her face.

  I smile, “You’re turning green, baby.” Jealousy mars her features.

  “Yeah, from disgust.”

  “Hmm… if you say so.”

  “I do.” She says, crossing her arms over her chest and moving her knee, that was touching my leg, away from me.

  I reach out and grip her thigh, “Don’t. Don’t pull away from me, Renee. Not right now.” I caress her soft skin with my fingertips. “I don’t take an active role. I own the business, take a cut, but I have a man that runs them. I’m a silent partner, Angel. Strippers aren’t my thing.”

  “Could have fooled me with that fucking Barbie Bitch that likes to stake her claim on you.”

  “Natalie?” She rolls her eyes hard and slips her leg away from my touch again. Anger slips into my stomach, like a snake burrowing in the leaves, waiting to strike. “Do I need to remind you that we’re exclusive? That bitch has no fucking claim on me, no bitch has ever had a claim on me. I have a fucking past and I won’t hide it. I’ll do my best to keep it the fuck away from you, but I won’t lie about it. I’ve had other women, Renee, but you’re the last.” That bitch Natalie needs to go. If I never see her fucking coke-snorting-nose again, it will be too soon.

  “She sure seemed to think she had a claim on you that first night at the club and in your office.” She looks away from me.