A PRICE TO PAY: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Zoey Parker

  Missy clasped his hand in hers and braced herself, pulling him to his feet. He let out a short groan, but overall, he seemed to be moving a bit more easily. She remembered that she had brought him pills just a short while ago, but looking at the way he stood and carried himself now, she knew it was more than that. The pills had often seemed to dull his senses and make his body look like it was sagging under a heavy weight, but now his eyes were bright and alert, and his shoulders were squared.

  Maybe the sex helped, Missy thought. Maybe the most important step in his recovery was being allowed to feel like he was a real man again. Someone who's in charge of his own life, instead of just a victim recovering from his injuries.

  “So you're going to talk to Christina now?” Cain asked.

  “Uh-huh. But first I'm meeting up with Hunter to pick up some extra protection.” This reminded Missy of something and she reached down, picking the condom up from the floor and depositing it in the trash. She washed her hands briskly in the sink.

  “Well, just be careful out there, okay?” said Cain. “Keep one eye over your shoulder for Gaspar's guys. They could show up anywhere, at any time...”

  Missy felt a spark of anger and she spun around to face him. “Let's clear something up right now, pal,” she said. “I'm fine with crawling around on the floor and acting submissive for you, but that doesn't mean that when I get up I'm still going to let you treat me like some kind of whipped bitch, okay? Right now, I can take care of myself a hell of a lot better than you can, and if you don't believe me, you can ask that fat prick I killed at the Shop-N-Stop what kind of moves I've got—or better still, ask Marian. So I don't need a lot of patronizing crap from you about what a defenseless little woman I am.”

  “No, listen, that's not what I meant,” Cain insisted, stammering slightly. Missy had never heard him sound so unsure, and searched his eyes. She'd seen plenty of emotions there before—pain, anger, impatience, exhaustion, and now lust. But now she was seeing something new. Fear.

  This wasn't dismissive male posturing. He was genuinely concerned about her.

  And there was something else there, too. Something she had a much harder time identifying. Something tender and hesitant.

  Missy sighed. “I'm sorry. That was defensive of me. It's just, I get so much of that shit from Hunter...”

  “Yeah, no, I'm the one who should apologize,” Cain said. “I can see how it would have sounded like that.”

  There was another silence between them as they looked at each other from across the kitchen.

  “So what did you mean, then?” Missy finally asked.

  “I just...” Cain trailed off and shifted his feet uncertainly, unable to meet Missy's gaze. He cleared his throat and began again. “I, uh, don't want anything bad to happen to you, that's all. I'd...”

  “You'd what? Miss me?” A teasing smile played at the corners of Missy's lips. She was touched by the earnestness of his concern, but part of her also couldn't help being amused at his transformation from the stern and commanding man he'd been just a few minutes before.

  Cain chuckled shakily. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I would. I've, y'know, gotten used to having you around.”

  Missy tried to stop herself from laughing, but it bubbled out of her anyway. Cain's expression hardened and he turned to leave. “Aw, fuck it. Forget I said anything. Just go.”

  She put a hand on his shoulder and turned him around to face her again, stroking his hair tenderly. “I'm sorry,” she said soothingly. “I'm not laughing at you. Not really, anyway. It's just...you can be kind of sweet, when you want to be. It's fun to see that side of you. You should do it more often.”

  Cain smiled. “Well, first we need to survive Gaspar Hernandez. After that, we can work on making me into Mister Sunshine and Sparkles.”

  Missy laughed again. “Okay, when you come back to the Knife, that's totally going to be your nickname from now on. I'm not even joking. We're getting a new patch made for you and everything.”

  Cain laughed too. It was a nice sound, and Missy found herself hoping she'd get a chance to hear more of it once this was all over.

  Are you really thinking of going ahead with this? she asked herself. You've already listed the reasons a serious relationship with Cain probably wouldn't pan out in the long run. Do you still want to risk all that, just to see if you've got a shot with him?

  Yeah, she thought. I guess I do.

  Missy kissed Cain on the cheek, then went to the living room and collected her gun, knife, and car keys. “I'll be back soon,” she called out, leaving through the front door and locking it behind her.

  Keith and his guys were hanging out in the garage, throwing dice. “Hey, Keith, I need to meet up with Hunter real quick. Can I take one of your merry men with me?”

  “Sure,” Keith said, turning to an Eagle who was called Matches—thanks to his habit of chewing on matchsticks. “Matches, you go along with her. Take your bike an' stay close.”

  Matches nodded and strolled out to the driveway, hopping onto his bike. “Finally,” he said. “One more round of dice an' my boredom was gonna straight-up murder me.” He let Missy start her car and pull out first before riding out after her, staying close behind.

  Missy drove to the park again, stowing the car a few blocks away. Since it was daylight this time, she knew there wasn't much she could do to throw off anyone following her, so she was glad to have Matches watching her back. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Matches swiveling his head constantly, looking in every direction for potential threats with his hand hovering near the gun at the back of his jeans.

  Hunter was waiting near the concrete drain pipe with Pecs and Burger, two of the Eagles he'd chosen to remain at the Knife with him.

  “Hey, sis,” Hunter called out. As he approached her, he cocked his head to one side curiously. “Are you okay?”

  “Uh, sure,” Missy replied, confused. “Why do you ask?”

  Hunter inspected her face with mild interest. “I dunno. You just seem...different somehow. I can't put my finger on it. A little flushed, maybe.”

  “Oh, um, we had the heater running at Cain's house,” Missy lied quickly. “It was turned up pretty high, so I guess I'm still feeling a little toasty.” The last thing she wanted was for her brother to know he was seeing what she looked like in the rosy afterglow of sex.

  “Huh. Okay. Well, anyway, if it looks like I'm walkin' funny, it's because I just got fucked good an' hard by Ham-Hock. Sonuvabitch came by the Knife to collect his ten thou. Man, if we get outta this alive, we're gonna need to make some serious scores happen to recoup all that cash. Did you set up the meeting with Christina?”

  “Yeah, I'm due at the salon in about fifteen minutes,” Missy said. “I want to have Burger and Matches follow me as backup, just in case. They should stay back a bit, though, so she's not too freaked out by them.”

  “No offense taken, in case you were wondering,” Matches drawled, spitting his chewed-up matchstick to one side and replacing it with a fresh one.

  Missy rolled her eyes. “She's a civilian, Matches. And she's scared enough as it is.”

  Matches raised his eyebrows, but said nothing further.

  “So what's the plan for afterward?” Hunter asked.

  “I'll go back to Cain's house to check up on him,” Missy said, “and then I'll get in touch with you so we can talk it over and decide what's next.”

  “Nah, you don't have to,” said Hunter. “I mean, I told you that you wouldn't have to babysit Cain anymore after meeting with Christina, so...”

  “No, it's, um, it's fine,” Missy answered. She'd forgotten that promise from him. “I don't mind. It shouldn't take long anyway.”

  Hunter considered this, then nodded. “Fine. But when you're done with Christina, just give me a quick call to let me know you're all right. And no texts, okay? If I hear your voice, I won't have to wonder whether one of Gaspar's guys picked you off and decided to use your phone to fuck with me.” He thought for another momen
t. “Also, we should have some kind of code word for you to use, just in case they grab you and make you call.”

  Missy chuckled. “You're getting pretty paranoid, huh?”

  “It ain't paranoia if they're really trying to kill you,” Hunter snickered. “I'm just tryin' to make sure my little sister stays safe. Besides, you always say I don't think things through enough, right?”

  “I don't think I've ever said that to you,” Missy replied.

  “Naw, I guess not,” Hunter countered, “but I can usually tell when you're thinkin' it.”

  Missy smiled. She'd underestimated Hunter, and probably not for the first time. He could be a lot smarter than he seemed when he made the effort.

  “Fair enough,” she said. “If I'm on the phone with you and I say 'I love you,' you'll know I'm in trouble and can't talk.”

  Hunter barked out a short laugh. “That's a little harsh, ain't it? Yer supposed to choose a code word that's something you wouldn't usually say.”

  Missy shook her head. “Nope, that only works in movies. In real life, it'd be a dead giveaway. What word would we use? 'Watermelon?' 'Handkerchief?' 'Casablanca?' Can you really picture me fitting something like that into a call with you without Gaspar figuring out what I was doing? He probably already knows we're keeping our calls short since they're being intercepted. But a sister telling her brother she loves him? No one would suspect that.”

  Hunter whistled, impressed. “Wow. You really do have a mind like a damn bear trap. We gotta figure out a way to put it to better use when this shit's over. 'Til then, I guess we gotta put kind of a moratorium on sayin' 'I love you.'”

  Missy smiled. “Then we should probably get those out of the way now.” She hugged Hunter tightly. “I love you, big brother.”

  Hunter embraced her, and even though his powerful arms felt like they might squeeze her until her liver popped out of her mouth, she didn't mind. “I love you, sis.”

  Missy let go and stepped back. “Okay, Burger, Matches, you're with me. We're heading to the salon.” She started to walk away with the two Eagles in tow, then turned back to Hunter again. “Oh, and Hunter?”

  “Yeah?”

  “When we're on the phone, remember: If I say you're a big, greasy motorhead with a dumb-looking beard, that's not code for anything—I really do mean it.”

  The other bikers guffawed and Hunter joined in, shaking a fist at Missy good-naturedly as she walked off.

  Chapter 32

  Missy

  The Snip-Snip Salon was located in a strip mall less than ten minutes' drive from the park. Its cheerful pink sign featured a pair of scissors that appeared to smile and dance as the neon patterns blinked. The large front window allowed an expansive view of the salon's interior, and Missy could see that it was empty. The “Closed” sign hung on the door.

  She pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store across the street, and Burger and Matches followed suit. “You guys hang back here,” Missy said. “Keep a close eye on the salon's window. If you see anyone in there other than me and Christina, you come running, understood?”

  Burger snapped off a quick salute, while Matches just chewed on his matchstick and looked at her blankly. Missy realized how weird it must be for them to take orders from her.

  Well, that's tough shit, boys, she thought, because when all this is over, you'll be seeing a hell of a lot more of me. If we all survive.

  She walked across the street to the salon, peering in. When she didn't see Christina, she rapped on the window gently.

  Christina emerged from the back, looking at Missy owlishly from behind her thick glasses and wringing her hands nervously. Under her work smock, she wore a bland denim dress that looked like something a middle-school art teacher would own. She smiled timidly when she saw Missy and unlocked the door, beckoning her in.

  “Um, hey, Missy! Thanks for, uh, y'know, coming by. Here, let's get you over to the sink,” Christina said, locking the door again behind Missy.

  “Look, now that I'm here, can't we just talk? It's not like I really need my hair done...”

  Christina's already-pale face turned an even sicklier color, and she started gnawing on her lower lip anxiously. “No, um, it's probably better if we go ahead and, uh, do your hair anyway,” she said, stealing a glance out the window. “We need to act like nothing's going on in case, y'know, they're...”

  She clearly couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, but one look in her haunted, glassy eyes told Missy how terrified Christina was that they were being watched. She took Christina's shoulders and spoke to her in as soothing a voice as possible. “Christina, you can relax now. I'm here, I'm armed, I've got two of the Eagles parked across the street looking out for trouble...whatever's going on, you're safe now. We'll protect you.”

  Christina's eyes became misty with tears. “No. I'm not. You could be armed with a bazooka and have twenty guys outside, and it wouldn't be enough. You don't know these guys, Missy. You think you do, but you have no idea what they're capable of.”

  Missy nodded patiently. It looked like Christina was about to have a full-on breakdown right in front of her, and this meeting was too important for her to waste time trying to help the hairdresser pull herself together again. “Okay. It's fine. If it makes you feel safer and more comfortable, you can do my hair while we talk, all right?”

  Christina managed a grateful smile. “Thanks. I won't, um, charge you for it or anything.”

  Damn right you won't, Missy thought, settling into a seat and tilting her head backward into the sink behind it.

  Christina tucked a bib under Missy's chin and turned on the faucet, wetting Missy's hair and kneading shampoo into it. “So, uh, my mom...Pauline...like I said, she runs the Teepee, y'know? And a couple weeks ago, Gaspar and his guys went to see her, and they told her they were gonna be using a couple of the rooms to store all their guns and, um, drugs and stuff. When she tried to say no, they held her down while Gaspar broke one of her legs with a baseball bat, and they said they'd rape and kill both of us and burn the whole motel down. Mom's almost sixty, y'know? She's scared to death.”

  “Christina, we've known each other almost since we were kids,” Missy said. “You knew my brother was the president of the Eagles. You could have come to me at the beginning of all this.”

  “I wanted to, but I couldn't!” Christina said, her voice breaking. “Mom wouldn't let me. She said it was too big a risk, and she didn't want her motel caught up in the middle of some gang war. I mean, she doesn't even know I'm talking to you now, y'know? Maybe I shouldn't be. Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut, but...then I heard about what happened with you at the Shop-N-Stop, and I didn't want anything bad to happen to you. I couldn't live with myself if that happened, after how long we've known each other. Mom thinks if she just keeps quiet and does what Gaspar tells her this will all blow over somehow, but it won't, Missy, I know it won't! They'll just take more and more from us until we're all used up, and then they'll...they'll...”

  Christina broke down, sobbing. Missy sat up, reaching for a nearby towel and wrapping it around her damp hair. Then she took Christina's hand and looked deep into her eyes. “Okay. I understand. But Christina, we've lost one of our guys to these monsters already, and before this is over we could lose a whole lot more. I want to help you, but first I need you to try to help me. I'm going to ask you just a few questions, and I really need you to think hard before you give me the answers. Can you do that?”

  Christina nodded, sniffling.

  “Okay, good. Thank you. Now, my first question—you said they took over two rooms at the Teepee. Do you know which rooms?”

  Christina nodded again. “Rooms 12 and 13. There are two or three men in each room at any given time, but no more than that. Gaspar himself's mostly stayed away since that first night.”

  “All right. Second question. You said they had all of their guns and drugs stashed there. Are you sure? You haven't heard them talk about any other places where they might be
keeping them?”

  Christina shook her head vigorously. “No, they've got all their stuff there. Seriously, they've got dozens of crates of guns in one room, even some grenade launchers, all piled up to the ceiling. And in the other room, it's just stacks and stacks of packaged coke and grass and heroin. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw it.”

  “Uh-huh. Third question. How many civilians are staying at the Teepee right now?”

  Christina thought hard. “Not many. There was a father and daughter, but they checked out this morning. The only other person's an old guy who's staying in room 20, at the far end of the motel.”

  “Very good. We're almost done, Christina. Just one last question, and this is the big one, okay? I need you to really think this over and make sure before you answer. Is Gaspar doing all this on his own, or does he have the backing of the Barros Cartel?”