by Violet Blaze
“Shut your fucking mouth, and tell me why the hell you think it's okay to prance around and announce your shit in the middle of a public place like that? You do understand that TSR is a multinational powerhouse that could crush your balls in a vice and forget to blink twice that you ranked in the Forbes Top Ten richest list. A lot of the members spread their wealth out among family members to stay beneath the radar. Just because they don't take glossy photos and smile for the camera doesn't mean they don't have power.”
Dash leaned back, his tattooed left arm brushing against mine. I looked down and found that I couldn't stop staring at the place where our inked skin met up. It was almost mesmerizing.
“I know that,” Apollo said, sounding hurt, his face an almost perfect match to the photo Dash had pulled up on his phone. Twenty-eight years old, the genius behind the private tech start-up known for their exclusive contract with the US military, their soaring projected market value and the fact that their CEO was a kooky kid who refused to go public.
Apollo was a redhead with a Caesar cut, a pair of thin lips and a kind face. The bit of orange-brown stubble on his chin and cheeks actually made him look younger as opposed to older like it did for Dash and pretty much every other man on the planet. He was small but muscular, an inch or so shorter than I was. And he seemed like a genuinely nice person although I wasn't willing to bet on instincts alone.
“I just … one look at your face last night and I could tell.” Apollo paused and poured another glass of champagne for Kelly as she smiled softly and gazed at the man like he was her personal savior. “Your video, too. I mean the one of you guys—”
“What about the fucking video?” Dash growled, his hands tightening into fists as he stared Apollo down like he was second guessing himself for even getting in this limo. It was a risky choice to be sure, but I couldn't help but remember Kelly's stricken expression as she stood on that stage next to Layla and quivered with abject terror. Either this was all some seriously elaborate plan cooked up before I even knew I'd see Dash at that auction, or Kelly really was a scared girl who felt safe with this guy. That, and he'd flashed us his phone with a short clip of Ingvar Dunham—the man who'd backhanded me—laughing with the Auctioneer and discussing business that I had high doubts they'd ever want us to know about, even in the context of a ruse.
“You looked like lovers, I thought …” Apollo said and then paused when he saw the murderous expression on Dash's face. “It's not like I wanted to watch it, but there are only so things I can get out of in one night. I don't think anyone else noticed; I'm just observant.”
“What do you want, Apollo?” Dash spat out, crossing his arms over his chest, his leather motorcycle jacket rustling with the motion.
“I want allies, that's what,” Apollo said as he finished his champagne and the limo rolled to a stop outside of a tiny brick building with a faded sign that read Chicago Joe's. The place was just a hop, skip, and a jump from the Westgate. Somehow, I'd pictured us going to some swanky sky high restaurant with ten course meals. But when I thought about it, I figured that was about the most likely place in the city to run into somebody else from TSR, somebody much less palatable than Apollo in his bright red Pistols and Violets shirt that made me smile. He seemed like a really big fan of Dash's which was beyond cute.
“Do you? Well you probably just got your allies caught. How do you know you weren't tailed to the Westgate? And how the fuck did you find us there in the first place?”
“Can we go inside and get seated with a plate of pasta aglio e olio before we talk? I'm starving and this really is the best place in town for authentic Italian.”
“I'm not getting out of this car until you answer the question,” I said, scooting forward on the seat and studying Apollo's face as he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his features.
“Look, nobody's watching me. At least, not yet. A guy trailed me back to my place after the auction, but he left just after the sun came up. Otherwise, TSR's left me alone. I specialize in security and surveillance; it's what I do. And I do it seriously goddamn well. There's nobody better.” Apollo sucked in a deep breath and set his champagne flute aside, taking Kelly's next and letting his fingers linger purposely on hers. “I tracked the license plate of your motorcycle using traffic and surveillance cameras in town.”
“Fucking Christ,” Dash cursed, closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath. “Of course you did. So what's to stop Ingvar or Niles or whoever the hell else from doing the same thing?”
“Because they don't know how. Because their tech teams are children compared to what I can do. Because I wiped the record clean after I found you. Listen, we need each other.”
“How's that?” Dash asked, tilting his head to the side.
I felt suddenly sick to my stomach. Neither of us had even considered the traffic cams last night. It was such a basic thing and we'd fucked it up. I was starting to feel like our little plot was over before it was even started.
“I can do a lot of things, but I can't do what you do,” Apollo said, leaning forward, his voice eager. He stopped a moment to look over at Kelly with a smile, and then over at Layla. “Hey, my guys'll have already checked out the restaurant, and they'll be waiting around. It's safe if you two want to go in and order.”
It wasn't really a suggestion, but Kelly and Layla both seemed to sag with relief at being let out of the conversation early, climbing out and slamming the door closed behind them.
“What is it you think we can do?” Dash asked, leaning back, subconsciously putting his hand on my knee. His fingers seemed to burn, even through the denim, and I felt a sense of surety and closeness at such a casual touch. I knew it was all in my own head, that we were nothing and nobody to each other, but god it felt good.
“Act, for one. You blend in enough to fit in, but not enough that anyone looks at you like you're competition. Besides, the show you guys put on in that room was brilliant. I can't ask Kelly—or any other girl for that matter—to do that with me. Not that I'd know how to anyway. I'm more of a vanilla sort of a guy.”
Dash and I exchanged a long look and I felt my heart start to flutter—and it wasn't just because I was liking where this conversation was going. His eyes had this deep richness to them, the promise of so many layers. On the outside, Dash was sexy and a bit rugged—although he cleaned up good, too. But on the inside, Dash Buchanan was as complex as people come, and he had a strong sense of morality that managed not to border on self-righteous.
I was completely into him.
“Here,” Apollo said, leaning over and handing Dash his cell. “That phone has pictures and videos of members rumored to be on TSR's board of directors. There's a lot of incriminating evidence in there but I highly recommend you don't watch most of it.”
Dash ignored him and tapped into the gallery, pushing play on a video with a woman in a bright red dress and a man in a white suit … the Auctioneer and the Mistress.
There was a woman tied spread-eagled to a bed, naked and trembling. When the Mistress tore the gag from her face, the sound of her screams reverberated throughout the limo, making Apollo jump. Neither Dash nor I reacted as we watched the Mistress straddle the girl's midsection. She had a knife clutched in her manicured hands and I felt my throat getting tight, going dry.
Apollo remained quiet but looked away as we watched the Auctioneer strip his slacks off and mount the woman. No sooner had he done that then the Mistress was stabbing her in the throat. Blood oozed and bubbled up as the screams went quiet … and I had to look away. I couldn't take anymore.
I crawled across the seat and shoved the limo door open, stumbling into the early evening darkness, my eyes prickling with tears, my stomach churning.
The look in that woman's eyes reminded me of the fear I saw in Kelly's last night, the fear I saw in Layla's. Hell, in my own eyes as the Mistress stood over me and watched me apply my makeup.
Leaning over, I put my hands on my knees and tried to breathe through the nausea.
Apollo's black and white Converse were loud as they scuffed across the pavement and he paused next to us, tucking his pale hands in his pockets.
“You two get into those parties for me and I'll make sure you have everything else you need—help with security cameras, alarms, surveillance. We'll collect evidence as we go, but seeing as to how half of fucking congress and most of the FBI is the pockets of those pieces of shit, we might not even be able to use it. We need to find a way—”
“I'll kill them,” I told him as I swallowed hard and stood up straight, blinking away the tears, steeling myself against the emotions. “It's what I do,” I said, but I didn't bother to explain. Apollo just blinked at me, glanced at Dash, and then looked back.
“So you're in?” he asked skeptically and I nodded.
We both looked over at Dash Buchanan, but his eyes were closed and his strong profile was limned in ambient light. When he opened them, his gaze was in brilliant flame. I think I fell in love with him a little bit in that moment. Just a bit, but enough that I knew I could work with this man, that I could fight beside him.
“We're in,” he said, and I liked that.
We.
Dash and me.
We were going to fuck-up some psychopathic billionaire ass.
And I, at least, was going to savor every minute of it.
The Auctioneer and the Mistress better watch out; I was gunning for them first.
#
After dinner—which was so damn good that I felt terrible that I couldn't take more than a few bites of without feeling sick—Apollo dropped us off at Dash's building, leaving us with the horrible cell phone and all its nasty secrets.
“It's risky to start so soon, but I suppose it makes sense. You come to an auction, buy your first Companion. It'll look even more suspicious if you don't show and then just pop up later,” Apollo said as we sat in the idling car for a moment as one of his bodyguards flirted Layla and Kelly up in the parking garage. “So tomorrow night's event is at the Gibbous Moon. Do you know anything about it?”
“I was there, once, on the night of my twenty-fifth birthday. I walked the halls, had a few drinks, and got the fuck outta there. At least I have some idea of what they'll expect from us.”
“Good,” Apollo said, nodding and biting his lower lip contemplatively. “I'm scheduled to stop by the Block and 'update' the closed circuit camera feed, add a few new cameras. Just get into the Gibbous and make nice. We'll count the next show at the Block as our first real hit. Brian Salle, the COO of Franny Bae, is on the Block's board and he's been skimming money off the top of the bank transfers. His company handles all of the accounting for the auctions, and he's supposed to reinvest all of the bank fees back into the business. If we kill him, nobody will care. That, or they'll just assume he got what was coming to him.”
“You been at this for a fucking while, haven't ya?” Dash asked, getting a pack of Marlboro Reds out of his pocket and offering one to me. I took it and he lit me up with a lighter, leaning in with his own cigarette and cherry fucking me until his was lit, too.
Our eyes met and a hot wild thrill shot through me.
Going to these parties … meant sex with Dash.
I didn't know quite how to feel about that.
“Actually, yes. About four years now. But I just recently got in the TSR's doors and besides, I had no idea what I was actually going to do about them. Any hired help is useless—these people have their hands in every fucking pot. But you … who even are you? You're not in any system, Miss Vaughn. Well, except the TSR's now.”
“I'm a club daughter,” I said with a tight smile and that was that.
I climbed out of the limo and smiled at Kelly in her moss green dress, her blonde hair soft and curling around her face. She might have to stay with Apollo a while before it was safe for her to go home, but at least she didn't look like she was suffering much for having to stay.
“Thank you,” she told me seriously, putting her arms around me and hugging me tight before I could even figure out what she was hugging me for. “Knowing you were there somewhere in that building gave me. Watching you fight back, that gave me strength.” She kissed my cheek and waved as Dash stepped out of the limo and she climbed in.
Within a few seconds, the car was gone and we were on our way up in the elevator.
“You're not in the system?” Dash asked quietly, leaning against my side, lighting me up and melting my core into a useless puddle. As much as I hated that side of me—all the wants and needs I didn't understand—I really wanted to be with Dash again. Somehow, the ragged edges of his soul seemed to mesh right up against mine. We were different shapes, but we fit together like a puzzle. Standing next to him, getting ready to fight with him, I felt like I was exactly where I was always meant to be.
“My mom wanted a home birth and her older sister's a midwife so … she had me in the master bedroom and then well, you've met my dad. Only Weeping Bones and their constitution matters. He thought it might be nice to have a child off the books …”
It was like I was born being the Violet Assassin, my fate sealed in the womb.
“What about school?” he asked as the elevator dinged and Layla sauntered down the hallway toward the apartment. She was the only sister I had that wasn't married into the MC, and I think she secretly despised it in her own way. She didn't want a single story ranch home in the Indian Wells Valley. She wanted an apartment like this, a high rise luxury suite. But she wasn't willing to work for it either. No, my sister wanted a man to drop into her life and take care of her.
I held no such fancies.
“One of the officer's old ladies worked in the admin office for the school district. She faked all my documentation. Honestly, it wasn't really all that hard. It barely ever comes up. My brothers have plenty of connections for fake IDs and socials, so I have an SS card and a license if I need to produce them.”
I shrugged as Dash unlocked the door and let us all inside the black and white and purple apartment. It really was sexy as hell, stylish, just enough rock 'n' roll to tease but not overwhelm. I didn't really miss my room back in Ridgecrest much at all—although the thought of talking to my mom made me almost weak in the knees. I really could've used her voice in that moment. Maverick was gone and there was nothing in the world that would make that right.
“I'm still exhausted from the whole ordeal. I'm off to bed.” Without even asking, Layla sauntered around the breakfast bar and down the hall to Dash's master suite, slamming the door and locking it from the inside.
We exchanged a look.
“If you want me to kick her ass out, I can get her set up on the couch.”
“And have to listen to her shout at the L-Word whenever I want a beer? No thank you, sugar. She can have the room for now. I got another bed to use,” he said and the sound of the word bed in that honeyed southern drawl of his made my throat tight. “Besides, me and you, we've got work to do, Miss Vaughn. If we walk in there without a plan tomorrow, they'll have our heads on stakes outside the front door.”
“So back to sex then,” I said and Dash nodded.
“Back to sex, honey pot.” He paused as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn't that I didn't want Dash; I just didn't trust myself to know what I wanted when it came to the bedroom. Or even if I did know, to be able to accept that the things I fantasized about were okay. “You know, this doesn't have to be all bad. When we get in there, it'll just be me and you, Adelaide. There might be people around and they might be watching us, but if we just focus on each other, it doesn't have to be any different than the sex we had last night.”
“I was thinking,” I said, breathing out and looking up into his face. I supposed I should've responded to his statement with one of my own, but I needed to think of
this as business right now or I wouldn't be able to go through with it. I knew what he wanted from me. We weren't just going to waltz into that party, keep all our clothes on fuck in a nice, easy missionary position. We had to play. “That rope bondage stuff you did. Do you know any fancier ones? Like that decorative Japanese style stuff?”
“Wow, you are pretty knowledgeable for a virgin.” Dash leaned forward, putting his hands on my hips, looking his thumbs through the empty belt loops of my jeans. He put his forehead down, resting it gently against mine. “I do happen to know some of that fancy stuff. Why? You got a plan—or are you just horny?”
I swallowed hard, but I still wasn't ready to talk about sex in … well, in a sexual way. My sexuality was not up for discussion, but I'd do whatever I had to do to get in with the people of TSR.
“You tied those knots like a sailor,” I explained, loving the way his breath fanned across my face. He smelt like mints and cigarettes and my fucking childhood. “Can you untie them just as quick?”
“Sure. If we use a nylon rope, it's easy to undo in a hurry.”
Dash slid his hands up and under my shirt, putting his warm dry palms on the small curve of my waist. I closed my eyes against a sudden surge of heat, like a desert storm sweeping in from behind the mountains. I could smell the rain, the thunder, the lightning. It was coming for me and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
“If you tied me up, bound my arms maybe, and lead me around like that, then everybody would look at me and they'd think … that I was helpless. I could hide my knives inside the dress and under the ropes and it'd be difficult for security to find them.”
“Okay, okay,” Dash said, following my train of thought, “and then what, we find a quiet place to untie you?”
“That or we use Apollo, maybe have him help us with the cameras? If you can untie me and retie me quickly, there's no way anyone will believe that I had time to slip those ropes, take care of one of those assholes and get back in them. Like you said, we need to practice.”