by Danika Stone
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Fran stood in her office, the phone pressed to her ear.
“What’s the news?” Nathan asked, his voice buzzing on the secure connection.
Fran had known Nathan since he’d first joined the undercover unit. It had taken him years to get into a position of trust, and the potential of losing him bothered Fran more than she cared to consider. But you didn’t abandon a plan at the last second. If they did that, every officer they’d ever lost to this cartel would have given their lives for nothing.
She’d seen too many of those in her time in charge.
“We’re getting close,” Fran replied. “Everyone’s in position. Are you ready to move when I tell you?”
“Ready and waiting, Commissioner,” he said. “You just give the word.”
Nathan’s voice had lost the scholarly inflection it’d once had. Now it had the guttural burr of the streets. Fran wondered if he’d ever really be the same after this. If any of them would.
“You have a plan to get out?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about me,” Nathan said with a cold laugh. “But when your guys come in, tell them to watch for the people around King. They’re just as guilty as he is.”
Fran’s eyes moved over to the open file on her desk. Images of Gina Cerritos, Rocco Cerritos, missing and presumed dead, Luca Brin and many others, cluttered the surface.
“Oh, we’ll be watching them,” she said bitterly. “There’s a power-shift brewing. Someone’s getting ready to make a move.”
“King doesn’t trust anyone,” Nathan warned. “You’ll need solid evidence to take him down.”
Fran’s jaw clenched, the argument with Sanger fresh in her mind.
“Don’t worry about my job,” she growled. “Just do your own and keep yourself alive!”
Nathan chuckled, and for just a second, he was the cadet she remembered.
“Yes, Commissioner. I’ll do my best.”
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Indigo wore a narrow black dress topped by a velvet jacket, a string of pearls around her throat. Her hair was loose and long, stiletto heels adding inches to her height. Luca had a thing for models, and that night as Indigo walked into The Vault, she knew she looked the part.
Heads turned as she crossed the room, her heavy purse swinging against her hip, the only thing detracting from her outfit. Indigo smiled and nodded at the doorman before heading toward the table at the back. She didn’t know for certain that Luca’d be there, but it was Friday night, and she figured it was as good a bet as any. Laughter rose from the secluded booth, and Indigo’s throat tightened. As she’d hoped, Luca and his suits were there, a gun and a pile of cash on the table between them.
“I thought it was you!” one of the waitresses called. Indigo waved, but didn’t slow, her eyes on Luca. “Great to see you, Indigo!” someone shouted.
Luca’s eyes jumped up at the sound of Indigo’s name. She came forward the last few steps, lips curling into a cat’s smile. Luca’s mouth opened, his gaze dropping down the length of her, and then back up. She raised an eyebrow as he caught her eyes, her attention entirely on him. Luca liked it that way.
“Indigo, baby,” he breathed. “You came!”
She swept her hair away from her face, angling her pelvis forward, hand on hips. Like the blush, and eyeliner, it was done for effect. Indigo’d practiced this in the mirror for hours when she’d first come to work at the club. Everything was about sex, and she excelled at the sale of it.
“I told you I would,” she said with a petulant moue, “and I did.” She reached out, straightening Luca’s collar. “I had to wait ‘til I had a little time on my hands.” She nodded to the booth. “May I? Or are you boys too busy?”
“Of course you can sit down!” He shoved sideways and she slid in next to him. “I’m just surprised to see you tonight.”
“Didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten about you,” Indigo purred.
Her fingers trailed down the line of his shoulder, and he caught her hand, biting the pad of her thumb. Indigo tugged just enough that he knew she wanted to get away. When he released her, she leaned closer. Luca liked the chase, and she needed him to want her tonight.
“I’d never forget you,” he growled. “You know that.”
Under the tablecloth, his hand slid up her leg, squeezing just a little too hard. Indigo giggled and squirmed, fighting a wave of revulsion. ‘Don’t think about Rocco,’ her mind screamed. ‘Think about Jude!’ She glanced at the men at the table; they were staring at the display, faces flushed with alcohol and anticipation. Indigo leaned closer to Luca, her hand brushing over his shoulders as she put her mouth to his ear.
“Any chance we could go someplace a little more… private?”
Luca groaned as his fingers slid past the edge of her dress and higher, kneading her inner thigh.
“Gimme a minute,” he grunted.
Luca reached out, lifting the gun from the table and dropping it into his pocket. With the other hand, he scraped up the cash, tucking it inside his lapel. Indigo stood, her body strung taut with anxiety. Her eyes moved around the group, pausing on each man. The only one who held her gaze was Patel. Furious, he glared at her until her gaze moved on.
“You ready?” Luca asked.
Indigo wiped her sweaty hands, pretending to be smoothing out her dress.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she drawled, taking his proffered arm.
If anyone knew where Jude Alden was, it’d be Luca.
Chapter 23: The Power Shift
Luca’s apartment hadn’t changed. The leather furniture, wood floors, and framed black and white photographs lent a sense of gentility Luca himself lacked, but the decor gave Indigo no comfort. Her attention kept drifting to the spot on the floor where Luca’d finally cut Rocco’s body from the chair, the corpse falling with a wet thud to the tarp below. She took a sharp breath through flared nostrils, forcing the image away.
Remembering that wasn’t going to help a bit.
Luca’d been impatient in the car, groping her as he’d driven home. She was relieved he wasn’t using a driver, or she was certain her plan would have ended with a quick fuck in the backseat. As it was, Indigo calmly headed for his bedroom, setting her purse on the floor and leaning down to unzip the bag. Luca came in behind her, groaning at the sight she presented, ass in the air. He ran his fingers over the curve of her hip, tracing her shape, and Indigo stood back up, pulling away from him.
“Patience,” she said with a coy wink. “You’ll like this more if you relax.”
“I’ll like it just fine like this,” Luca said, watching her with hooded eyes.
She leaned down again, pulling a narrow riding quirt from the bag and tossing it onto the four-poster bed. Next she took out a feather boa and a hand-held vibrator, hoping she’d remembered his particular interests. From the look on his face, she had. Luca reached out, tugging her against the hard line of his erection, but she shooed him away.
“Get yourself ready,” she purred, holding still so he could kiss her and forcing herself not to remember Jude. “And I’ll make it worth your while.”
Luca tugged off his clothes with impatience, flopping down on the bed like an oversized child, and putting his hands behind his head. Indigo peeked over at his body, heavily muscled chest leading down to corded legs, and then back at the bag. She reached out, turning down the lights until the room was in hazy twilight, setting a few more toys on the side tables, and then coming back around to the bed where he lay. Luca reached out, grabbing her by the wrist, and dragging her forward.
“You’re wasting time,” he growled.
Indigo giggled, forcing the fear away.
“I’m getting ready,” she said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”
He groaned, releasing her and she stood up again, legs shaking. Indigo reached for the mp3 player next to the bed, flicking through Luca’s playlists until she found one named �
��Indigo’. She winced. That’d been one she’d put together for him, back when she’d serviced him as often as anyone else. The playlist was the rest of his fantasy with her: the woman of the world. She clicked play and the soft lull of classical music filled the room. Tonight, she left the music playing a little too loud, but if Luca noticed, he didn’t complain. She stood, backing away from the bed, and began to undress.
Indigo swayed to the music, peeling off layers until she was dressed only in a lace bra and panties. Luca watched her like a starving man, his breath growing ragged. One hand dropped down from behind his head, and he began touching himself, stroking in time to her movements. Feeling his attention changing, Indigo climbed on the bed, trailing the boa over his chest as she writhed above him. She climbed down lower, pushing his hand away from his cock, and taking him in her mouth. This would normally be the part when she’d hide inside herself. Not now.
She needed all her focus to do this.
Luca’s breath was ragged, the muscles of his legs tensed, when Indigo finally let go. She moved up onto him, straddling his hips. She took hold of Luca’s hands, pushing them above his head, and kissed him. For a split-second, she could feel him resist, but she didn’t stop. For all that he liked to be in charge – liked to tie her up, and use the whip – he liked Indigo in charge even more.
She kissed him hard, her body hovering in position, as she held his wrists above his head. He was playing along, letting her do this to him, and the second he relaxed, she let go with one hand, reaching over to the side table, and groping for the cuffs. In a rush, she slapped the cuff around his wrist attaching it to the corner post of the bed, then reaching for the second cuff.
Luca was faster; he grabbed hold of her arm, fingers tight.
“What the fuck?” he snorted. He glanced up, squirming for a moment, then chuckling. “Take it off.”
Indigo moved backward, out of his grip. He had one arm stretched out above his head, the other sitting loosely on the sheets next to him. Luca’s smile twisted sardonically.
“Indigo,” he said dryly. “I’m happy to play your games, but you’re going to be the one tied up.” He shook the cuff, the first flicker of annoyance appearing behind his features. “Take it off.”
Indigo climbed off the bed, adrenaline rushing through her. She needed the other cuff on to hold him, but she’d been too slow. He was held in place, for now, but he wouldn’t stay like that for long. Time was running out.
“I can’t,” she said calmly.
“What?” he coughed, his tone changing to indignation.
“I need you to tell me where Jude Alden is.”
Luca struggled until he sat upright, one arm linked to the wooden headboard.
“You stupid bitch,” he sneered, “uncuff me right now!”
“I need to know what happened to Jude,” she said tremulously. “I know he was working for King!”
Luca turned to the bed, struggling furiously against the handcuff for a few seconds. When he turned back toward her, his eyes were narrowed, face piggish with fury.
“Uncuff me!”
“I will!” Indigo cried, voice breaking. “I promise, I will, but only when you tell me what happened to Jude!”
Luca went still for several seconds, the muscle in his jaw jumping.
“Or you’ll do what?” he growled. “Cut me up? Torture me?” He let out an angry laugh. “You won't do it. You're too weak. Ungrateful cunt!”
“Where’s Jude!”
Her hands had risen into fists, but she could feel tears ready to fall. Everything was fucked, and there was no way she was going to get out of this. Luca’d find her, and hurt her. She’d seen him do it before!
“Let me go!” he ordered.
“Tell me where Jude is!”
Luca jerked hard, and the bedframe groaned. A trickle of blood drew a line down the inside of his wrist. Indigo swallowed hard, seeing it. There’d been so much blood with Rocco.
“You let me go,” he said coldly, “or I’ll make you regret this.”
“I… I can’t!” she stammered.
There was a sudden rush of motion as Luca tugged and flailed against the creaking bed. The cuff held. When he turned back to her, his face was flushed almost purple.
“You owe me your fucking life!” Luca roared. “I took you off the street! I took you in! Fuck! I even killed Rocco for you! You owe me!”
Indigo moved closer, anger pushing away her fear.
“That’s a lie!” she yelled. “You killed Rocco for your own reasons too! I was just a good excuse!” Luca’s eyes widened, but Indigo wasn’t finished. Her voice was shrill, body shaking with years of rage. “You’re not the only mobster I ever fucked,” she screamed. “And you’re not the only one who ever talked. Everyone wanted to know who killed Rocco, and everyone thought it was King! And you never, ever changed that!”
She wiped a trembling hand over her lips, stepping back a pace. Luca was motionless. He stared at her with a different expression now: distrust. Seeing it, Indigo smiled angrily.
“You’re the one who owes me,” she said coldly. “Now where is Jude?”
Luca twisted against the chain, another line of blood joining the first.
“Stupid shit is probably in the bottom of the river by now,” he scoffed. “Mind you, they won’t find him. They never do.”
Indigo wavered in place, vision swimming.
“What did you do?” she gasped.
“I didn’t do a fucking thing!” he snapped. “Now uncuff me!”
Luca tugged hard against the corner post of the bed, the frame groaning. Indigo stumbled backward another step, her hands and legs numb.
“I… I don't believe you,” she cried. “I don’t—”
“Patel was supposed to bring Jude in,” Luca snapped, “but the stupid kid ran. Patel shot him in the back.” He paused, struggling against the cuff. The bedframe squealed as he lunged and pulled like a dog on a leash. “Now uncuff me, Indigo, or I swear to God you’re gonna wish you had!”
Indigo stumbled, going to her knees. Clothes lay scattered on the floor around her, the bag of toys tipped over on its side.
“You killed him,” she whimpered. “You did it.”
Luca turned, putting his hand around the cuff and heaving. The bed lurched sideways with a squeal, mattress shifting, but the cuff held.
“Patel! Not me,” he snarled. “Now uncuff me!”
Indigo looked up. Her face had lost the fear of seconds before. Her eyes were empty, like a doll’s.
“No.”
Luca stared at her, fury twisting his features into a monster rather than a man.
“What’re you gonna do, Indigo? Think this through. Think!” he raged. “You’re a fucking whore who is about to cross the second-most powerful man in the mob. You think you’re gonna walk away from this? You think you can start over? We’ll find you. I’ll find you!”
Indigo reached out for Luca’s coat where it lay on the floor next to her knees.
“You won’t,” she said dully. “Because you’ll be dead.”
She rifled through the pockets, dropping the cash onto the floor, then checking the inside. At the side of the room, Luca had begun dragging the heavy bed inch by inch toward her, the wooden frame shifting and cracking with each lurching step. Indigo’s hand slid into the last pocket, pulling out the gun Luca’d taken from the table at The Vault. She lifted it up, turning off the safety the way she’d seen Luca do.
Luca stopped moving, eyes wild.
“You won't do it,” he hissed. “You’re not strong enough! You're a nobody, Indigo! A nothing! I’m the one who gave you a life! You’re just a—”
“You’re wrong!” she screamed, lip curling. She stood from the floor, stepping toward him and pointing the gun at the center of his chest. “I was always something, only you never saw it. You’re the one who made me a whore! You’re the one who took my life away!” She cocked the gun. “And I’m just starting to build it again.”
&nbs
p; Luca sprang forward, the bed post shattering like kindling. He slammed into Indigo, taking them both to the floor, the gun hitting the ground and discharging, deafening them. In the strange silence that followed the gunfire, everything seemed to shift into slow motion. Indigo kicked and thrashed, trying desperately to get away, but Luca’s hands were a vise around her neck. The room had just begun to fade when the door of the apartment exploded inward, banging against the wall. Luca’s hands released, and Indigo began to gasp.
“This is the police!” a voice on a megaphone ordered. “Put your hands on your head!”
Luca sat up, reaching for something on the floor.
“Hands on your head!” the man roared, “or I will shoot!”
Indigo rolled to the side, coughing, while a team of uniformed officers swarmed the apartment. Luca was forced to lay down, face first, on the ground, then cuffed and led away. Indigo’s ears were still ringing, but other noises had begun to intrude. She felt, as much as heard, footsteps near, a woman’s feet pausing next to her. The officer stooped down, her face grave. She had a blanket in her hands, and she laid it over Indigo’s nakedness.
“I’m Detective Anya Schaeffer,” she said quietly. “It’s over. You’re going to be alright.”
And with that, Indigo began to cry.
: : : : : : : : : :
In the hour before dawn, the office of Tyrone “King” Fischer was unexpectedly occupied, the three figures within silhouetted by a single light on the central desk. Behind it sat King, fingers steepled. On the other side of the room, Patel paced nervously, cell phone in hand. He spoke in low tones, the words fading in and out. “…have you checked to see if anyone saw him after The Vault? Did he come back later…?” On the far side of the room stood King’s sister-in-law, Gina, her hair sleep-rumpled. She fiddled nervously with the pearls around her neck, breath coming in sharp gasps.
“Are you going to tell me why you brought me here?” she asked shrilly. “It’s the middle of the night, Tyrone. That’s not a social call.”
He stared stonily forward, his mouth a slash of indignation. There’d been trouble tonight, things tumbling out of control. King was determined to find out why. Throughout the city, individual cogs in the great machine that was King’s empire had begun to break down. People disappearing. “…Is there anyone there who saw Luca afterward? Did he have a driver, or go alone…?” In the last four hours, a dozen men and women on King’s payroll hadn’t checked in on schedule. Like Luca Brin, none of these people could found.