by Layla Frost
“He’s got Eddie. Lars is on his way there.” His phone beeped. “And we’ve got the address.”
While Jake told the guys to stick around the condo just in case, I was already out the door.
*******
Walking into the basement of an abandoned store, I braced for the worst. Blood and torture shit. Wouldn’t be the first time I saw it, but it wasn’t a visual I wanted burned in my head, either.
But Jake and I walked into calmness.
Too much of it.
Eerily so.
Leaning against the wall near the door, a smoke hung from Lars’ mouth.
Two big motherfuckers I didn’t know were chilling in the other corner of the room, their phones to their ears like they were on a conference call. Dressed in all black with shoulder holsters and firepower, they almost looked like feds. But the dangerous edge they both had meant they worked on the other side of things.
Most off-putting, though, was Eddie sitting in the middle of the room. He didn’t look like himself. There was no blood, wounds, or restraints ‘cause he wasn’t even trying to escape. Instead, he was sound asleep in the chair like it was a relaxing day at the beach.
I looked at Lars. “He drugged?”
“Yeah, but not with anything we gave him.” Lars’ lip curled up in a sneer. “Track marks all over his arms. Infected, blown veins. Nothing but a junkie piece of shit now.”
And another one bites the dust.
“He give anythin’ up?” Jake asked.
“Nah, he’s out.”
I searched the room again, half expecting the crazy fucker to be hiding in a corner, ready to jump out like the boogeyman. “Where’s Nox?”
“On his way.” He tilted his head toward the boys in black. “They found Eddie and brought him here. Now they’re getting the go ahead to play alarm clock.”
“The fuck is happening?” I murmured, not able to connect all the random pieces on the board.
Lars shrugged. “Eddie’s been running his mouth. Talking shit, trying to sink Wicked, a ton of bull he’s force-feeding anyone that listens. I found out a while ago, but no one believes a word he says, so I ignored it. Nox was following some other whispers tonight and picked up Eddie along the way.”
“Boss is mobile,” one of Nox’s men called out. “He says it’s in your hands.”
Lars’ jaw clenched hard, a muscle in his cheek jumping. Glaring at Eddie, he only took a second before lifting his chin. “Have at it.”
One of the men unholstered his gun and stood at his boy’s back. The other guy started small, almost gentle, gradually increasing until he had Eddie’s feet off the ground as he slapped him.
It wasn’t the first, second, or even tenth time they’d done this. Their transitions were practiced, almost graceful, in a fucked up way.
It’s like Goodfellas: The Ballet in here.
Eddie started coming to, his protests weak and slurred. Like his arms were weighted, he slowly lifted them in a halfass attempt to block the blows. “The hells. Wher’m I?”
Setting him on his seat, the men moved back to their corner. One took out his phone while the other kept his gun trained on Eddie.
It was a pointless precaution. A strong breeze or an elderly lady could’ve taken him down. Hell, one tackle from Hadley would have his head banging against the concrete.
When Eddie’s bleary eyes opened again, I shifted forward, but Lars beat me to it.
Lifting his foot onto a box, he pulled his slacks up and took a small gun out of an ankle holster. Aiming it at Eddie just long enough for him to lose the little remaining color he had, Lars turned our way.
*******
Harlow
My muscles started to loosen just in time for the car to slow down and turn.
“Fuck it, I’m leaving. I can’t do this,” I heard from the front, the first real words he’d spoken. Even muttered, his voice confirmed my suspicions.
David.
Tempted as I was to jump up and beat him over the head with my shoe, I held my breath, hopeful he’d change his mind.
That bubble was burst when the back door was thrown open. Since David still sat in the front, my body tensed in preparation for flight.
“Not about to back out, were you?” the mystery voice asked, low and mean. “You know how he feels about broken deals.”
Another door opened, the car jostling before it slammed shut again.
“No, of course not,” David said from outside, more than a thread of fear in his voice. “Let me get her.”
Racking my brain for ideas or a plan, I came up blank. All I could do was go limp, though I wasn’t having much success.
Make it harder on him. No one wants to carry around dead weight.
Eeeh, maybe don’t even think the word ‘dead’ right now!
His hands rubbed my bare legs, trailing up. Fear and confusion mixed with intense disgust until the mystery voice whispered, “Been waiting for this.”
I was still grossed out, but not quite as bad as when I’d thought it was David feeling me up.
Unable to stay relaxed as he touched me, I rolled over. I did my best to look disoriented and confused, as if I really was just coming to. Gratefully, I shoved the nasty ass tarp off. “What’s going on?” I didn’t have to force the weakness in my voice.
The bright overhead light hurt, making it impossible to see. Blinking a few times, I opened my eyes before immediately squeezing them shut.
This is a dream. Just a bad nightmare. Why the hell else would he be here?
Trying again, I peeked up and saw the cocky guy that worked with David looking at me.
His lips curved into a cold smile. “Hey, Harlow.”
Hellooooooo, asshole.
Keeping my snark to myself, I aimed for a soft expression. “Hi, uhh…”
“Rick,” he filled in.
Rick the Prick, got it.
I rubbed my face and stretched, closing my legs in the process. “What’s going on?” I repeated.
“Let’s go inside and talk.”
Careful to keep my arm down, I let him half lift me out of the car. When he set me on my feet, intense pins and needles shot through my legs. The pain and numbness worked together, almost taking me to my knees.
There goes my shot at making a run for it.
Rick caught me and helped me walk. When I saw the small, creepy looking warehouse we were heading for, I began to panic.
Should’ve just tried to army crawl away.
All the techniques I’d learned to deal with my anxiety had helped me stay reasonably calm on the ride. Tapping into some of that cool logic I kept in a box, my head had remained clear as I’d worked on an escape plan.
None of my ideas included a sketchy warehouse and a cold, calculating psycho.
For the first time in my life, I embraced my anxiety as I ran through my coping checklist. Deep breathing, I mentally packed away everything outside of what was happening right then. I ignored all the worst case scenarios that raced through my head, and the fear of what could happen. Boxed up, I pushed those thoughts to the side.
Instead, I focused on what was around, grounding me to that moment and place.
The cool breeze carried the smell of water, letting me know we were close to the ocean. The sounds of traffic were low and quiet, but they were there. It was dark out, but not crazy late.
Looking to the side, I saw the one thing that truly gave me hope.
The star.
It was far away. So much so, in fact, I wasn’t even sure it was the same one. But it was brighter than the rest.
‘Every night when I’m heading home to you, I see that star and I know it means I’m getting closer.’
Kase’s words echoed through my mind, giving me something to use as an anchor.
I’d been kind of figuring this was a desperate attempt on David’s part to win my mom back. I could’ve dealt with that.
But with the latest addition of the assweasel, I was at a loss. Though I worked
to keep it away, fear crawled up my spine. It increased when I saw the heavily armed guards step out from the doorway. A small fraction of the panic subsided when they moved to pat down David, not me.
Rick flicked a switch and fluorescent lights buzzed to life, brightening the warehouse.
It was smaller than I’d expected, though no less sketchy. There was a sitting area near the front with a couch and a few chairs aimed at a flatscreen TV on the wall. A dorm style fridge was under it.
Between interning at the station and watching one too many police procedural shows, my imagination was running wild at the sight of deep freeze chests and stacked boxes. Knowing the little I did about Rick the Prick, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he were a Dexter style serial killer.
I knew the less I saw, the better.
Turning, I kept my voice small. “Why are we here?”
“Sit,” he ordered, giving me a gentle push.
Lowering myself to the edge of the couch, I crossed my ankles.
His eyes followed the movement, trailing up so deliberately I was tempted to build a cushion fort to hide my legs.
And myself.
After unbuttoning his high quality suit coat, he dropped into a chair. Leaning back and rubbing his square jaw, he looked me over again. “You recognize me, right?”
“You work with David.” I tried to meet David’s eyes, but he continued staring at the blank TV screen.
Rick’s laugh was rude and taunting. “Right. With him. The same way a snake works with a rat. No, baby, he works for me.”
“Okay.” I was unsure why we were discussing the workplace hierarchy.
It was doubtful he went through all the trouble to get me to a secluded location just so I could help him with his résumé.
“I do, however, work with someone else.” He let his words hang, building the anticipation. Studying me, he made no attempt to disguise the fact he was enjoying himself.
I’m searching in all the crevices of my soul, but I’m finding not one single crumb of a fuck to give about who his work buddies are. I just wanna get home to Kase.
As seconds ticked by, he grew tense and angry looking at my lack of response.
Bartending, dancing, and working at the news station all relied on my ability to read someone quickly and adapt myself to fit their wants and needs. Since my income depended on that skill for so long, I’d gotten decent at it.
His change in body language let me know I was doing a shitty job reading him. If I wanted any shot at getting free unscathed, I needed to do better.
“Aren’t you curious?” he asked, his foot bouncing impatiently.
I nodded, choosing my words carefully. “I just wasn’t sure if I could ask.”
My answer pleased him. A small amount of warmth went into his smile as he waited, drawing out the silence.
He had something. It was feeding his ego, making him more dangerous than I’d already assumed.
He was the kid with the magnifying glass, and I was the ant.
And based on the way he was watching me, it was only a matter of time before I got burned.
Chapter Twenty-One
Personal Pussy Palaces and Pinterest
Kase
Lars had a crazy temper. He fought a lot, which landed his ass in jail. Once he was in, he had no problems throwing down when needed. Between him and Nox, dudes rarely fucked with us.
No one wants go knuckles with a guy that likes the fight.
Even at Wicked, security bounced the assholes, but Lars often followed and roughed them up.
Seeing him with a gun, I hoped he could keep his control until we got answers.
With some reluctance he handed the DoubleTap to Jake, muttering, “So I’m not tempted to shoot the pathetic fucker.” He jerked his head, gesturing to me. “Don’t let him get it, either.”
“Lars. Cousin—” Eddie tried before Lars backhanded him so hard he flew from his seat.
Gripping him by his collar, Lars pulled Eddie up and all but threw him back onto his chair. “You lost the right to call me cousin when you tried to use my business as your own personal pussy palace. You were dead to me when you tried to fuckin’ ruin it and my reputation. Now you’re just dead.”
Fear and remorse mixed on Eddie’s face. Dickhead that he was, he pushed the feelings aside and let his ego do the talking. “Not my fault you were too stupid to see the chances you could’ve had. And if I’m dead anyway,” he scoffed, clearly not believing the words, “then I’ll just keep my mouth shut. I’m no fuckin’ snitch, and you won’t do shit.”
“I will,” Lars growled, his harsh voice firm and set enough to make Eddie visibly swallow. “And fuck, do I want to. But it’s not my place.” He walked over to the big fuckers in the corner, but turned to me, giving me a chin lift.
I tapped into my fear and anger, letting my temper take over. Turning to face Eddie, I stretched my neck and shook out my shoulders. “Where’s my woman?”
Eddie leaned back in his chair. “The snotty, redheaded bitch?” He shrugged. “No clue.”
Moving quicker than he expected, my fist connected with his eye. It instantly started to swell.
“Where?” I repeated.
“How would I—”
I swung again, catching his jaw with a loud crack. Blood sprayed from a gash on his lip as he fell to the concrete floor.
“Man, I’m not fuckin’ around,” I growled. When Eddie didn’t say anything, I looked back to Lars. “Fuck it, he doesn’t know shit and I’m not going near a bleeding junkie. Shoot him.”
Wobbling as he stood, Eddie held his hands up. “Lars, you can’t—”
“You heard him,” Lars said with a shrug.
One of the men cocked his gun, the sound echoing. The metallic tinge of blood mixed with the strong ammonia scent of urine that Eddie had dripping down his legs.
“Nash!” he yelled, the name making the room go wired.
People moved, but my focus stayed on Eddie as I got into his face. “What about him?”
“He’s got an interest in her.”
“Call him.”
“I can’t.” I grabbed his shirt and pulled my fist back, but he rushed on. “No, I really can’t. All lines of communication have been closed, man. Numbers don’t work, he won’t see me. I’m in the dark as much as you.”
Releasing him with a hard shove, I turned to Lars. “Nox?”
“He’s not answering. But sitting in the basement is fuckin’ with my signal. I’m heading up.”
As he made his way to the door, I put my hand on Lars’ shoulder. “I know what family means to you, so if you wanna get him out—”
Lars looked at Eddie as he spoke. “Family doesn’t drag you down and try to hold your head under to push themselves up. He’s not family.” His tone wasn’t harsh or emotional. It was factual, like he was saying the sky was blue. “Nox’ll make it quick. Nash’ll draw it out and make it painful. Or the fuckin’ garbage he let seep into the blood we used to share will make it torturous. Whatever way, he’s dead. And that’s on him.”
Without another word, he headed up the stairs, Jake and I following after.
“Go catch up with Pipe,” I told Jake, uncomfortable with how deep this shit was going.
He shook his head. “No. Edge shut Voodoo down and she’s safe there.”
“She’d be safer with you there.”
Indecision flashed across his face before he shook his head. “She’s good.”
I remembered telling him basically the same thing when she was in the arms of our own Benedict Arnold traitor. Twistedly obsessed, Z had threatened her and hurt her in his sick attempt to keep her.
Jake knew that Piper wouldn’t leave him unless something was wrong. I’d tried to convince him to give her time, and if he’d have listened…
It haunted me.
“Go.” The suggestion was gone from my voice. “She might be safe, but you know she’s scared as fuck.”
Torn, he looked between Lars and me. “Y
ou sure?”
“No reason to hang around when we’ve got jack shit to go on. I’ll call as soon as we know something, and it’s a short drive back here.”
Giving me a chin lift, he ordered, “Call.”
When the door closed behind him, Lars looked at me. “You really gonna call him?”
“Nope,” I replied instantly, feeling not even an ounce of guilt about lying. He was my brother, my family, and I’d be fuckin’ damned if I was gonna put him in harm’s way.
“You sure? ‘Cause Nox just texted that he’s on the trail of something, and it might not be good.”
*******
Harlow
“Nash.”
At Rick’s one word, I felt the spider of dread and fear crawl back up my spine. The already dismal amount of hope I had swirled the drain.
“Ahh,” he said, sitting up. “You remember him. ‘Cause he sure as hell remembers you.”
This is bad.
No, wait…
This is really fuckin’ bad.
“How does she know Nash?” David stepped forward, speaking for the first time since we arrived. Since he was talking about me like I wasn’t right in front of him, it pissed me off.
Well, more than I already was.
“She tried to get a job at Nash.” Rick’s eyes lit as he watched David’s reaction to the mention of the strip club. “Not that he wasn’t already aware of her. He’d had eyes on her before she strutted her sweet ass in for an application.”
Already pale, David began to look green. “Application?” He looked at me like he was gearing up for a fatherly lecture. “Harlow, you didn’t—”
“Oh, yeah, like you have room to judge,” I snapped.
Rick chuckled. “She’s got you there.”
I lowered my brows, trying to piece everything together. “Does Nash want me to work for him? Because I left Wicked.”
“Wicked?” David breathed, his expression horrified. For all the bad that could be said against him, and there was a lot, he always did treat me like a daughter.
I ignored him, focusing on Rick. “Am I supposed to dust off the stilettos and G-strings?”