by Ravenna Tate
Chapter Four
After Tannin changed his jeans and boots, he strolled down into the main club area and eyed Gorgon from across the bar. The President was whispering something into Legs’s right ear, but there wasn’t time to hang back until he was done. “Hey, we’ve got a situation.”
“Yeah? Well take care of it. You’re the Sergeant-At-Arms, and I’m busy.” Gorgon shoved his hand between the girl’s thighs. She giggled, her skin blushing a deep red. She’d made them a shitload of money in the few months she’d been dancing.
Gorgon had recently made it official that Legs was his old lady, and it was about damn time. The rest of them had been wondering when the fuck that would happen since the moment he’d first met her. None of them had ever seen Gorgon act that way over a woman, and they were all happy for him. He deserved someone special in his life.
“It can’t wait. Involves an outsider and someone Vassago might know.”
Gorgon sighed and gave Legs a quick kiss. “Scram.”
Before the girl had time to pout, Tannin asked her to wait. “I need one of the girls to take some food up to our guest.”
“Our guest? What the hell are we runnin’ here? A fucking hotel?”
Tannin glanced around at the patrons. This wasn’t the place to discuss Rai.
Gorgon glared at him, but finally rose and beckoned both him and Legs with one finger. “Come on.”
They followed the man to the private area of the club, just outside the room where the Brothers could engage in sexual activity without disturbing the paying crowd in the club. Only members and their escorted guests were allowed in this area.
Tannin spotted Vassago, and was relieved to see he wasn’t busy wasn’t fucking someone. “We need to include him.”
Gorgon called to Vassago to join them, then asked Tannin again what was going on. “This needs to stay private.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Once the four were inside Gorgon’s office, Tannin asked Legs again if she’d take some food up to Rai. “She isn’t feeling well. Give her food you’d give to one of us who had the flu. And, she’s in some trouble, but don’t pry.”
“Her name is Rai?” asked Legs. “That’s unusual.”
“It’s not that unusual,” said Gorgon, ruffling Legs’s hair. “You’re so damn cute.”
“It’s short for Raiyana,” said Tannin. “Listen, she needs to know she’s safe here, okay?”
“Okay. I got it.” As soon as Legs left, Tannin told them what Rai had said about running from the Mob.
Vassago ran a hand through his hair. “Holy fuck, Tannin. Which boss? Donny or Vito?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Well, we fucking need to find out, don’t we?” said Gorgon. “And let’s hope for your sake it’s Vito.”
The entire club would love to take out Vito, but they owed their continued existence to Donny Messina. Without his protection, they’d be easy prey.
“Did she give you a name?” asked Vassago.
“No.”
“Did she say anything else?”
“No. Nothing else. She’s scared to death. I followed her into the south lot from the road, and although she didn’t say so, I’m pretty sure she thought I was the one sent to take her out.”
“We know nothing about this broad,” said Gorgon, “except that the Mob is after her. Yet you fucking set her up in one of the rooms, and now we’re feeding her?”
“Gorgon, she puked on my fucking boots because she’s so damn terrified. What should I have done? Called 911?”
“You should have fucking walked away.”
“Well I didn’t, okay? She almost fainted. And you’re a fine one to talk about leaving a woman in trouble on her own. When Legs came here last year, you took her in, no questions asked.”
“Fuck you!” Gorgon pushed him against a wall, but Tannin pushed right back until Gorgon took his hands off Tannin and backed up. “Not the same thing at all. And Legs was sent here by Meghan’s cousin.”
Meghan was one of their bartenders, and a very popular sweetbutt. They didn’t call her Wonder Tongue for no good reason.
“It is the same thing. At least for me. We all saw the look on your face the first time you saw Legs. Same fucking thing happened to me when I looked into Rai’s eyes. I want to fuck her, okay? I want to help her. She’s in big trouble. It won’t put us out to keep her here for a few days until we can figure out who she’s running from.”
“And if it turns out to be Donny she’s running from?”
He hoped like hell it wasn’t. “Well then, it does. You can label me a fucking idiot.”
“We could just ask her,” said Vassago. “And if she is running from Vito, Donny’s men can find out more about what’s going on.”
“Why do we give a fuck about what’s going on?” asked Gorgon.
Vassago gave him a dark look. “Because Donny might care.”
“He’s your cousin,” said Gorgon. “You deal with that shit.”
“I will do that, but first let’s find out what the fuck she has to say.”
“Fine,” said Gorgon. “But either she spills the entire story, or she can find another place to stay after tonight. I won’t have a fucking Mob war inside our club.”
“Well then, let’s go and talk to her.” Tannin wished Gorgon had given him the opportunity to coax the story out of Rai alone, but he understood the man’s position. He was President of the MC, as well as the strip club owner. His word was law around here, and considering Tannin’s history with Gorgon’s family, Tannin would cut off an arm before he’d openly defy the man.
“By the way,” said Gorgon, “where the fuck have you been tonight?”
“Elyria.”
“That shit finally taken care of?”
“Yep.” Tannin didn’t want to talk about it, and was glad neither man asked further questions. They weren’t the kind of men who pried unless it meant protecting the club or each other.
Tannin had been fucking a woman who used to work for them behind the bar. Things had gone south when a patron gave her a hard time and she’d tossed a drink in his face. Gorgon fired her because the patron brought in a lot of money, but Tannin thought the woman had every right to do what she had done. The Brothers were split on who they backed, but Tannin kept seeing her anyway. Brotherhood only went so far when the pussy was sweet and willing.
Because his relationship with Gorgon and a few others had become strained over him fucking this woman, things got too damn complicated. So he ended it, but refused to do it over the phone. Instead, he had driven to her home earlier to tell her in person they were through. The Brothers teased him all the time about how his upbringing had never really left him. Tannin didn’t mind so much. It was part of who he was.
On their way through the back hallways, they spotted Legs in the kitchen. “Did she eat something?” asked Tannin.
“Yes. Chicken soup. I’m making us turkey sandwiches now. She’s still hungry.”
“Doesn’t sound like she’s feeling sick any longer.” Gorgon’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Give me the sandwich. We’ll take it to her. Hey, did she say anything to you, Legs?”
“She asked me if this place was run by Vito.”
“What?”
Legs’s eyes grew wide, and she took a step back when all three men barked the question at the same time.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” asked Gorgon. “What did you say?”
“I said ‘no’ of course. What the hell do you think I said?”
“What else did she say?” asked Tannin. Why the hell would Rai assume this place had Mob connections? Who was actually running from whom? If this went south and he’d inadvertently allowed a plant into the club, he’d never live it down.
“Nothing. We talked about my dancing.”
Gorgon took the plate from her hand. “We’ll take this up to Rai. You eat yours and then get ready for your show.”
“Okay. You gonna watch tonight?”
“I sure a
m, baby.”
Once the men were out of earshot of Legs, Vassago asked Tannin if Rai’s car was still in the south lot.
“No. I’m not an idiot. I moved it to the back, next to my truck.”
“At least she can’t run,” said Gorgon.
When they came upstairs, and as they neared her room, the bedroom door opened. Tannin stood there with his jaw slack as Rai stepped into the hallway, carrying every one of those fucking bags he’d hauled up here.
“Where the hell are you going?” Son of a bitch! He was right. This woman had charmed the socks off him, and then fucking lied to him.
She froze, her eyes widening as she took in the three of them. No one moved for a long moment. It would have been comical if not for the seriousness of the situation.
“I’m feeling better. I don’t want to cause your club any trouble.”
Gorgon advanced toward her and the other two followed his lead. “Why do you think you’ll cause us trouble?” His voice held that dangerous note Tannin recognized. The one where he was two steps away from punching someone. Although none of them had ever struck a woman, Tannin wondered if this damn tasty-looking piece of pussy truly understood how much trouble she was in.
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit,” said Tannin. He pointed toward her. “Back inside, sweetheart. We have a few things to discuss with you.”
“You can’t keep me here.”
Man. She had balls. He’d give her that much. “Yeah, we can. You have two choices. Get back inside the room now, or we’ll give you to our Brothers.”
They wouldn’t really do something like that. None of them had ever forced a woman to have sex, but she didn’t know that.
It was the only credible threat Tannin figured would work right now, although saying it out loud left a bad taste in his mouth. Because if they were wrong and she really was running from Vito Cinquepalmi, he’d just given her a credible reason not to trust them, either.
Chapter Five
So much for manners. Tannin was nothing but an asshole. Rai went back inside, dropped her bags on the sofa, and crossed her arms as she faced the three men. Which scenario was worse? Being held prisoner by three biker dudes, or a bullet to the head from a mobster?
Never ask if a day can get any worse. It can. Big time.
“You have no right to keep me here, or to threaten to use me as a sex toy.” Strong words from a woman about to pee her pants from fear.
“So call the cops,” said the tall creepy dude with massive muscles and more ink than Tannin. He must be the leader of the pack.
The third man had handsome features, thick, dark hair, and big dark eyes. He looked Italian. Sicilian, actually. Hot fear shot through her. She’d made the worse mistake of her life trusting Tannin.
“Tell us your story,” said Tannin. “Start with your name. Your full name.”
She met his gaze, more hurt than she should be at how quickly he’d changed from wanting to help her, to threatening her. All men were nothing but assholes, and this guy proved it for her all over again. “Raiyana Maria Teresa Parente. And how do I know you’re not in league with the people looking for me?”
“Who’s looking for you?”
“A man named Vito Cinquepalmi.” He didn’t flinch. She glanced from Tannin’s face to those of the other two. No surprise at all, which meant they knew the name. She was toast.
Tall dude placed a plate on the bed and pointed. “You can eat that if you want. Legs went to a lot of trouble to make it.”
Rai bit her lip in an effort to hold back the tears. She wouldn’t give these goons the satisfaction of seeing her cry. “Let me give you the background first.” Though why she was even bothering was a mystery. “Three weeks ago, I discovered the two largest clients I have—”
“What do you mean by clients?”
She sighed, eyed the sandwich, and grabbed it off the plate. Hunger always won out over having to tell her life history to three strangers. After taking a bite and chewing it, she swallowed. “I have an MBA in marketing from Cleveland State. Three years ago, I started a company called Silver Lining Marketing.”
Rai took another bite of the sandwich. It really was delicious. Too bad she wouldn’t be staying here. This beat by miles the takeout food she normally ate all week. “I had an operating budget of ten thousand dollars, which is ridiculously small for those kinds of firms. But I…” She was not going to tell them about her ex-husband and what he’d done. It wasn’t relevant to this discussion.
“I wasn’t born into a family with money.” That was an understatement. “I had to sacrifice all through school in order to save enough to start the firm.”
Tannin’s expression grew curious as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. He likely had assumed she was wealthy because of that ridiculous wallet. “Your family didn’t help?”
“They couldn’t afford to help. I thought I hit the jackpot when I signed Timmy Bowling and Jennifer Wise-Minnick as clients. In case you don’t know who they are, Timmy Bowling is a tele-evangelist with a net worth of three billion dollars. Jennifer Wise-Minnick founded Comfort First, and last year took in four billion.”
At the mention of Comfort First, Tannin’s eyes narrowed. What was that about?
“Why did they sign with you, then?” he asked quietly. There was a sharp mind in there somewhere. Right behind the ink and muscles.
“Good question. I should have asked it. These days, I would ask it, but at the time, I didn’t give a shit. I was happy to have them. Both gave me plausible excuses, having to do with running out of steam with their prior firms. It happens.”
“So, you’re doing okay financially now.” Tannin’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“I was, until today.”
The creepy dude opened his mouth to speak, but Tannin cut him off. “How were things with the two clients?”
“Horrible. They interfered with my staff, they showed up when they felt like it, used extra offices, set up meetings in my conference rooms, and basically insisted on telling me how to run my company.”
“Why didn’t you kick them to the curb?”
“Income. I had none without them. I signed a handful of other clients who, combined, barely take in a million a year. Without those two, I had no marketing company, and they knew it.”
“Sounds like you got a raw deal,” said the third man. “So, what happened today?”
“It really began six months ago. My administrative assistant overheard a conversation between Jennifer and Timmy. They didn’t know Tiffany was working late and were in a conference room, on the phone. They’d been in there all day. The phone was on speaker, and Tiff stayed hidden to listen because the first thing she heard Timmy say was that they finally had Wade on board.”
“Wade who?” asked Tannin.
“Wade Kramer, the CEO of Dreaming Tiny. It’s one of those small house companies, and I had just signed them on. Tiff thought that was an odd comment for one client to make about another, so she eavesdropped.”
“Why would two people like Timmy Bowling and Jennifer Wise-Minnick take a chance on being overheard?”
“It was after hours. They had been around often enough by then to know our usual routines. Like I said, they had no reason to suspect Tiff was still in the suite. She usually went home before four to beat the traffic. But that day, her husband was picking her up because their kids were on a field trip overnight. He was taking her out to dinner.”
“What else did Tiff hear?” asked Tannin.
“They kept talking about Wade as if he was in some secret club with them. Of course, the whole thing creeped me out and made me suspicious, so I began to dig into his background a bit. Then I dug into Timmy’s and Jennifer’s, too.”
“What did you find?” asked the third man.
“A lot of dummy companies and FBI files on all three of them.”
The men gave each other sideways glances. Either they were very good actors, or she’d been wrong. Vito didn’t run t
his place. But they obviously had some knowledge of how the Mob operated, so who did they know? Was it someone who worked with Vito? They weren’t asking her enough questions, as if they understood where this was going.
“I took my concerns to the FBI, and they waved me away. Said every US citizen has an FBI file, and hiding money in dummy companies was legal under certain circumstances.”
Tannin snorted. “Yeah. It is. And believe me, large corporations are fucking geniuses at it.”
How did he know that? Coupled with the Gucci wallet comment earlier, Rai suspected there was way more to Tannin than that leather vest and those muscles. “So, I kept my eyes and ears open, and so did Tiff. I moved a file to my personal laptop, where I kept track of everything I found on those three.”
“Do you still have it?” Tannin’s voice was tinged with fear.
“The file or my laptop?”
“Both.”
“Yes.” If these three asked to look at her computer, she’d need to make a run for it.
“Go on. What happened next?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to insist they give her information on who they worked for, in exchange for all she’d told them, but the cold, hard look in creepy dude’s dark eyes stopped her. “Three weeks ago, I met Vito Cinquepalmi. He came into the suite, and basically stormed into my office, demanding I clear my afternoon so I could talk to him.” Rai took a seat on the edge of the sofa.
“Did you know who he was?” asked Tannin, his eyes narrowed again.
“By then, yes. And let me tell you, I was shitting bricks. It felt like part of a horror movie where the stupid teenage girl runs into the basement to investigate where the strange noises are coming from. But my hands were tied. I’d already talked to my attorneys, and we were getting ready to approach the FBI again, this time with the file I had.”
“Do you think Vito knew that?” asked creepy dude.
“If he did, I have no clue how. Tiff didn’t even know about it.”
“What about one of your attorneys?” asked the third man. “Could they have tipped off Vito?”