Ballistic (A Vigilantes Novel)

by Keri Lake

  The bed squealed as I sat up, and I turned to check she hadn’t stirred. Like an old man, I hobbled into the bathroom to take a piss and brush my teeth, before nabbing my phone and sneaking out the door, leaving Nicoleta asleep.

  Outside, I scrolled through my phone for a number I’d been given by a friend, in the event I needed to dig for some information. He was something of an internet celebrity, particularly amongst the hackers who’d come to idolize him. The phone number belonged to a chick named China who had a penchant for finding shit a Google search wouldn’t pull.

  Shit so deep on the darknet, not even the FBI could track it down.

  At her greeting on the other end, I spoke low into the phone. “It’s Dax. I need whatever you can find on an Eden O’Malley. Some bad shit.” I cleared my throat, brushing my thumb across my nose as if she were sitting in front of me. “Snuff.”

  “Damn, Dax. I hate having to search for those.”

  “Better you than me, sweetheart. My trigger finger gets twitchy just thinking about it.”

  “All right, I’m on it. I find something, I’ll send it to the email from before. You have access to that?”

  “On my phone.”

  “Then, it’ll be encrypted.”

  “Fair deal. Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  I clicked off, stuffed the phone into my back pocket, and lit up a cigarette. The urge to know more about the girl, to understand why Nicoleta would risk her own life to set things straight, had nagged at me most of the night.

  It was tragic how some girls—the good ones—like my sister, Livvie, got dealt a bullshit hand in life sometimes. Like the universe just up and forget about them, left them to fend for themselves against the flock of predators who got off on bastardizing their innocence. Of course, in Livvie’s case, the bullshit had started long before her murder.

  My bones ached, as I climbed the stairs of the tired, ratted front porch. With all the money my foster parents, or June and Hank as I preferred to call them, collected taking in kids, seemed like the house should’ve been one of the nicest on the block. Fucking chateau in the hood, instead of the white trash hellhole that sat as an eyesore in an already run down area of Detroit. Just proved what little shit they gave when it came to things they should’ve taken care of. The moment I set my hand on the front door knob, a scream from inside coiled down my spine.

  Livvie.

  Shoulder first, I slammed through the door to find her crouched in the corner of the living room, eyes wide with terror. Across from her, my foster father stood with a belt looped for whipping.

  “Hank! Stop this!” June reached out for his drawn back arm and with his palm stretched over her face, he shoved her backward into the wall.

  I charged forward, barreling straight for his mid-section, knocking him down to the floor.

  Someone screamed, didn’t know if it was June or Livvie, but I didn’t care. I had the bastard beneath me, and I hammered my fist into his nose. Blood sprayed up, and his body shook, trying to get free, but I popped him again. Another punch struck his eye. A third split his lip. I punched him until his fight settled and June captured my drawn back fist, as she stood sobbing over me.

  “Please! No more!”

  I didn’t even realize tears had gathered in my eyes, until I craned my head, catching her blurred form trembling with fear.

  Fear for what? This cocksucker? That I might hurt him as much as he’d hurt every kid that ever skated through their shithole chateau?

  Lip peeled back, I wrenched my arm from her and pushed to my feet, towering over her. “I promised if he ever touched her I’d kill him.” Not sparing her another second, I strode across the room and crouched in front of Livvie, who bore the strikes of his belt in thick red welts across her arms, her shoulders, her face, wherever the cocksucker could get a hit in, it seemed.

  “I was … Reed and I were … in the car. He saw us kiss.” Her whole body trembled as she spoke, and I reached out to rub my hand across her arm, careful not to touch her wounds. Reed was my buddy, Jase’s, younger brother, one she’d met going to meetings at The Ladder, something of a group home where we’d all ended up before landing in foster care. “The minute I walked into the house, Hank pinned me to the wall. Called me a whore.” Eyes glistening with tears, she shook her head and lowered her gaze from mine. “We were just hanging out, Dax.”

  “It’s okay, Livvie. Everything’s going to be okay.” I stroked a hand down her hair, lifting her gaze to mine, and just caught the wide-eyed terror staring back at me before a sharp pain struck my back. The burn radiated across my spine, sending tingles into my limbs, as every nerve flared beneath my skin. A roar of agony cracked through my chest, and I reached behind, to palpate an object sticking out of my back that felt like the hilt of a knife. When I twisted around, Hank’s swollen and bloody face stared down at me, eyes brimming with murderous rage.

  I made my way back inside, to find Nicoleta sat up on the bed, eyes heavy with sleep.

  “Jasper Horn.”

  The name slapped me with confusion as I closed the door. “Come again?”

  “He’s the first on my list. One of the men who killed Eden.”

  “Great. But you’re in no condition to take down a Christmas tree, let alone a murdering rapist.”

  “I’m fine.” She pushed to her feet and wobbled backward, falling onto the bed again. “I just need to eat something.”

  “You need to eat for about a week, before you’ll be in any shape to confront a criminal.”

  “I don’t have a week. In case you didn’t happen to notice, people are after us. If we sit idle, they’ll surely find us. Dmitry has eyes everywhere.”

  “If we start frequenting the places they like to cut loose, we’re sure to run into them there quicker.” I strode across the room for one of the granola bars I’d left in the grocery bags from the night before and tossed one to her. “Let’s start light this time.” From a case of water I’d picked up, I handed her a room temp bottle.

  “He hangs out at a club. It’s one of theirs.”

  Nabbing another bottle for myself, I fell back into a chair and cracked it open, guzzling half its contents before I set it down on the table. “You’ve been to this club?”

  “No.”

  “Where is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know.” I shrugged and threw my hands up in the air. “So, what’s your plan, Nicoleta? Drive around the city looking for some shady ass club?”

  “It’s not open to the public.” She bit into the granola bar, chewing slower than she had with the burger. “You need the tattoo to get in,” she added around a mouthful of food.

  “And what then? You can’t just waltz in and start shooting up the place. These assholes have connections to the cartels and shit.”

  “I’m well aware. I want to follow him. Find out where he lives.”

  Shaking my head, I stroked my palm over my skull, frustrated by the bullshit plan she’d laid out for me. “I never agreed to this shit, Nicoleta. I’ve got my own to deal with.”

  “And you’ll never find Tesarik without me.” The proud incline of her chin struck me as both bold and painfully attractive. “Every time you track him down, he gets smarter.”

  “So what makes you think he’d take the chance of showing up somewhere, knowing you’re privy to that?”

  “I can assure you, he wouldn’t miss it for anything. Even me.”

  “What’s so important about it?”

  “I suppose you’ll have to help me to find that out.”

  Rubbing my hand down my face couldn’t stamp out the urge to shake the shit out of her. Girl had a way of driving me crazy. Must’ve been a pheromone she gave off, or something. In some ways she reminded me of a kitten, but wilder. More cunning. Like a little fucking lynx, all claws and teeth, digging into my soft spots. “What is this club?”

  “BDSM, from what I understand. It’s an old hotel somewhere.”

 
“Hotel? Baby, I’ve been in damn near every building in the city. Pretty sure I’d have seen it.”

  “If you’d seen it, I’m certain you’d remember it. A place like that can’t easily be forgotten.”

  The very thought tightened my muscles. Wasn’t sure I could venture into that kind of club without my kill switch getting flipped.

  “You haven’t known me long. But I’ll tell you, I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t need your help.”

  I rolled my head on my shoulders, trying to rid myself of that nagging fucking ache I’d developed since taking her in. “Fine. I’ll do it. I got some friends who might’ve heard of it.”

  “They’d have work in the bowels of the city to know this place.”

  “Woody’s Strip Club. Doesn’t get much lower than that. ‘Sides Sphinx.”

  “I want to come with you.”

  “No. What are you? Two days over eighteen?” I sneered and kicked back another swig of the water.

  “I’m almost nineteen. And I’m not staying in this shitty motel, waiting for some asshole to come swipe me up.”

  “Last I checked, you do all right on your own. I’ll leave a blade for you.”

  “I do all right on my own. But I’m safer with you.”

  Staring back at her failed to reveal a trace of bullshit in her eyes, and I groaned as I slid deeper into the chair. “Fine. But I’m not taking you to a club wearing nothing but my T-shirt.”

  “Ah, yes, let’s roll up to Macy’s like something out of Pretty Woman and shop for some clothes.”

  “I know someone.”

  “You’ve got an acquaintance for everything, don’t you, Dax?”

  “Not everything,” I muttered, grabbing the car keys off the table. “Let’s roll.”

  13

  Nicoleta

  One thing I’d come to know quickly about Dax in the short time I’d spent with him: he liked being needed. I’d seen it flickering in his eyes when I’d told him I felt safer with him. As though I’d hit the one button that made him more pliant and agreeable with females.

  He was probably one of those types who insisted on being called Daddy during sex. If I had to guess, the guy’s dating roster was probably a disaster of girls with daddy issues. His size was perfect for making them feel small and fragile beside him. Little dolls he could care for and play house with, then discard when he got bored of them.

  Lucky for me, I knew how to play on his weakness.

  A fog still clouded my head—residual effects of the drug, I supposed—but it was nice getting out of the apartment. Like sucking in a lungful of fresh air after sitting in a smoke-filled room. Hardest part of detox had been lying in a bed, staring at the walls every day, forgetting my purpose. Ignoring that nagging sense of urgency beating down my spine, while the drugs worked their way out of my system.

  The city passed through the passenger window, as we drove through downtown, toward the outskirts of what I recognized as the direction of Hamtramck.

  “So, you hang out at strip clubs in your free time?” I asked. It made sense. They seemed to be a class of women who needed help. The very idea that some of them got into the profession out of desperation for money seemed aligned with Dax’s personality.

  “You can make me out to be a man-whore all you want, sweetheart. Truth is, those women bust their asses every day to stay alive. I like strong women.”

  Strong in bed, maybe. “And I’m weak?”

  “No. Not even close.” He shot me a glance, before turning his attention back to the road. “You’re an enigma I’ve not quite figured out.”

  “Don’t think too hard on it. No sense hurting your brain over nothing.”

  Something like a growl rumbled in his chest. “You’re a smartass, you know that?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You don’t like surprises?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t trust anyone, do you?”

  Through the passenger window, the homeless we passed clustered around a burning trashcan beside a building. “Trust is hard-earned with me, and rarely reciprocated.”

  “Jase is a buddy of mine. Known him since we were kids. His woman’s laid back and nice—been through some shit herself, so I figured—”

  “That we’d become fast friends? Maybe we’d swap stories about being used and abused?” I turned in time to catch the flinch of his eye. Another thing I’d come to learn about Dax: he didn’t like hearing about women, in particular, getting hurt.

  “I figured she’d be less inclined to ask you any questions.”

  Directing my attention back to the window again, I rubbed my hands against my thighs, a bout of nervous energy humming through my veins. I’d never been good around other women. They tended to look at my standoffish personality as bitchy, when, really, I just didn’t know what to say half the time. I didn’t grow up gawping over boybands and dreaming of prom. I grew up balancing a criminal’s bank records and learning how to defend myself. I grew up keeping others at a distance, because I learned a valuable lesson early on: the more people in your life, the more times you could be hurt.

  With the bucket of supplies Donata had given me, I knocked on the office door before entering quietly.

  Dmitry sat at his desk, hovering over papers scattered across the surface of it. The guy was definitely a criminal, so I never quite got why he always had paperwork. He glanced up from his work only for a second. “How’s your eye?”

  “Good. Can’t hardly see the bruise anymore.” I padded across the office and fell into one of the more comfortable leather seats, directly in front of Dmitry’s desk.

  “You’ve finished for the day?”

  “Yeah. Donata told me to check with you before I go.”

  “You’re free to go, then. I’ll have Radim drive you home.”

  The moment he returned his attention to his work, I stole the opportunity to ask the burning question in the back of my mind. “Why don’t you have a family? I mean, you have all those rooms to clean. In a big house. Seems like a lot for just you.”

  The way his gloved hand went still, his fancy pen dripping globs of ink onto the white paper below it, sent a shiver up my spine. When he lifted his gaze, I wondered if he was trying to figure out how he could effectively pierce my skull with that expensive pen.

  He cleared his throat and set the pen on the desk, much to my relief. “I did have a family.”

  “Did? As in, don’t anymore?”

  “In my world, love is a liability. A weakness. The very thing that can destroy a family.”

  Shifting on my chair, I frowned. “That’s funny. In my world, it’s the only thing that keeps families together.”

  His stern eyes softened, and he sat back in his chair with what I guessed was a smile, though it was kinda hard to tell when the guy’s face always looked mad. “What I wouldn’t give for that level of simplicity once more.”

  “Were they killed? Your family?”

  His lips thinned and brows pinched together again, as he seemed to chew on the question. “In front of me.” He removed his glove from his hand.

  My eyes widened at the deformity of his skin and the way every inch of it was wrinkled into some grotesque disfigurement.

  “Where I come from, we’re punished for expressing love, because it is the only path to a man’s most valuable possession, and his most vulnerable wound. Therefore, it’s wise to keep it guarded at all times. Never let them know you have a weakness, and you’ll always have the upper hand.” Fingers splayed, he twisted his hand in front of me and smiled. “Do you understand?”

  I did. Never love, and you’ll never know pain.

  The change in scenery broke me from my musings, as Dax turned the car into the driveway of a small bungalow in an unremarkable neighborhood. Neither impressive, nor shitty. Just kind of there.

  Dax killed the engine, and we both exited the vehicle.

  From inside the small house, a dog barked incessantly—not the yip of a small animal, but
the deep, hearty warning of a big one. It reminded me of Tesarik’s Presa Canarios he often set loose on his enemies. I’d once witnessed the male, Bane, chew the nuts off a man Tesarik believed had been stealing from him. The visual of the man bleeding all over the floor had left me running for the bathroom to throw up, and I’d grown wary of large dogs ever since.

  Before I even realized it, I’d slipped my hand into Dax’s.

  He paused midstride and looked down, then curled his big fingers around mine, and we strode up to the front of the house.

  “Shhh, Ruger, it’s okay. It’s just Dax.” A woman stood in the doorway with a baby set on her hip. A little girl, with light brown curls and beautiful green eyes that beamed as we made our way up the stone stairs.

  “Daya!” The baby squealed, and Dax let go of my hand and held his arms out for the child reaching back for him.

  “How’s my princess?” he asked her, lifting the baby into his arms, as the woman smiled up at him. He brushed his beard against her face, inciting the kind of giggles that brought a smile to mine. “Taking care of the kingdom, baby girl?”

  “She missed you,” the woman answered for her. “Where you been?” Her eyes landed on me, but not in an appraising way, as I’d come to expect. They softened with a real smile, not the fake variety most women put on around me. “And who might this be?” Bottom lip caught between her teeth, she raised her brows, as though it were some joke between them.

  The dog trotted up to me, and just as I had the moment I’d met Tesarik’s dogs, I held out my open palm, allowing it to sniff me. After a few inquisitive probes of my hands and my feet, the dog retreated, allowing us to step inside the house.

  “Been around. Lucy, this is Nicoleta. My friend,” he said, and at that point, I was pretty sure I understood the look she’d given him seconds ago. “And Nicoleta, this is my goddaughter, Soleluna.”

  “Soleluna.” I repeated the name. “Pretty.”

  “So, Nicoleta, I understand you’re sick of wearing ridiculously oversized men’s shirts and sweats, is that right?” Arms crossed, she glanced down at my outfit and back to Dax, shaking her head.