by KB Winters
“Holy shit!” The tap on my window was loud and scared the hell out of me. I looked up and found Detective Haynes’ green eyes peering down at me through the window. When my heart finally decided to stop trying to kill me, I let the window down. “What can I do for you, detective?”
“Going somewhere?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, trying to escape the biker gang that beat me to a pulp. It may be hard for you to remember since you guys don’t give a shit.” He flashed that annoyed cop look that did nothing to stop my frustration.
“We need to talk to you, Ms. Sutton.” His voice might have scared me if cops didn’t always use that tone to get their way. So I said nothing.
“Preferably at the station.”
I nodded and tried to get out of the car, but it was harder than getting in, with the steering wheel in the way. I finally made it out with a triumphant groan and turned back to get my phone, hissing out the pain as I reached across the seat to the center console.
“Got it.”
I grinned like I’d accomplished something really big, but I turned and found Haynes with his gun aimed at me and froze. My grin was gone and so was any goodwill I had for the man.
When he saw my phone he holstered his gun. Did he really think I was going to unload a pistol on him?
“We’ll have a uni come and get your car.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll drive myself.”
He sighed. “That’s really not necessary.”
“Well considering how twitchy you are, I think it is. So either I drive myself or I don’t go.”
The younger detective finally stepped from the car, his smarmy grin making me want to punch him in his weasel face. “You’re coming with us,” he insisted firmly.
I ignored him, my gaze staying on Haynes. “Am I under arrest or being detained?”
“No, we’re not arresting you. We have some questions. As well as a few concerns about your safety.”
“Then, I’ll be right behind you.” He gave a reluctant nod and tried one more time, but I brushed him off. “Someone must be dead if you’re suddenly giving a shit about me.”
His lack of response kept me on high alert, shaken and anxious the entire ride back to LVMPD. I was tired, sweaty and in too much pain to even contemplate things like manners and being polite. I parked on the street and stepped out, looking up at the white building. I’d rather be anywhere else than walk inside, yet I crossed the street where Haynes waited for me.
His bushy eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you all right?”
“You don’t need to worry about me, Detective. Let’s just get this over with.” I followed him inside the precinct, buzzing with activity, or at least seeming to do so. They were probably letting all the calls go to voicemail and playing solitaire or on Facebook. The room was so bare and stereotypical it had to be an interrogation room. I sat gingerly on the edge of one of the hard metal chairs that had a fucking wobble.
“So what is it you want with me? I have places to go and people to see.”
He sighed and waited a long minute until Detective Napoleon Complex joined us. “Where were you last night?”
“At home, where I’ve been for the past nine days. Recovering. And no, there’s no one to confirm that.” I really wished I could have crossed my arms, so I could glare at them and let both men know they didn’t scare me.
“That’s too bad,” Dodds said and slid several pictures across the table. Pictures of a woman with stringy black hair, grey jeans and a lacy black tank top. With her face beaten and swollen the way it was, she could have been anyone. But the hummingbird tattoo between her thumb and forefinger, and the Claddagh ring on her right hand with the sapphire birthstone inside told me exactly who it was.
“Krissy. What happened to her?” I looked at Haynes because dealing with the rookie might end up with me in handcuffs.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Anything you want to tell us?” Dodds leaned forward, smacking his hand on the lopsided metal table.
“I have a few things I’d like to tell you, little man.”
He was on his feet, leaning over the table in seconds, his face red, spit flying out of his mouth as he called me every name he could think of. No matter what he said, though, he couldn’t intimidate me. I barked back at him, “If this is how you treat crime victims, I’ll be sure to let everyone know.”
Pushing off the table with my left hand, I stood and stared down at Haynes, shaking my head.
“We both know you’re no fucking victim, Mandy.” He spat my name out like it left a bad taste on his tongue. “Tell us what happened and maybe you won’t end up in prison for the rest of your life.”
I laughed. “I’ll tell you two things, Officer Dodd. One,” I held up my left forefinger, “if I could swing a punch right now, it would be worth the assaulting an officer charge. Two, I’m leaving.”
“I don’t think so.” He blocked my path and my left hand bunched and flexed, aching to knock his little ass out.
“So I’m being arrested? Great.” I took a step back and smiled. “Lawyer.”
Haynes groaned because I knew he’d been trying to avoid it. Cops hated when you exercised your rights. “Don’t leave town, Ms. Sutton.”
“Whatever. Try not to get me killed while you guys do your job, if you remember what that is.”
I stared at Dodds until he moved out of my way, yanking the door open so it smacked against the painted concrete wall and marched out.
Fucking cops, useless. I made my way back to the car and fished my phone out of my purse, not easy with only one hand available to me, my other sweltering in the cast. Before I could start my car I had to make the call to the one person I knew would help without asking too many questions.
“Hey, Teddy, I need a favor.”
***
Looking around the lavishly appointed office, complete with a Renoir on the walls, I felt completely out of my depth and pretty sure that this was the dumbest shit I’d ever done. I was either about to make a deal with the devil or take control of my life. What possessed me to walk into Siren Resort & Casino and demand to speak with the owner and CEO, Drake Foster, I hadn’t a clue. I could blame the painkillers or the late-night staring at the mute TV in my motel room, delusions of grandeur or just plain fucking survival. But the truth was, this was it. My only shot. Two days had passed since the cops told me not to leave town and they hadn’t said anything more about it.
They were no fucking help. Roadkill MC would kill me before the cops pulled their heads out of their respective asses.
“It’s pretty ballsy of you to come in here like this, considering.”
Drake studied me, and I studied him right back. He was a handsome guy, in a mobbed-up kind of way with dark hair he wore slicked back, beautiful skin a deep olive tone that said he spent more time on his yacht than in a windowless casino. He had big brown eyes with large flakes of gold and green, the five-thousand-dollar suit bringing the green to the forefront. But as beautiful as they were, his eyes were cold. And hard.
Yeah, considering that I’d admitted to Drake Foster that back in the day I’d counted cards in what was now his casino. “I know. I’ve been warned that I might end up in a shallow grave in the desert.”
“Yet here you are,” he said with a smile that smacked of respect even as he leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankle on one end of his desk.
“Here I am,” I repeated while I gathered my words. “I decided to risk it because I was a minor at the time and using a fake I.D., which is as bad for you and the gaming commission as it is for me and the desert. Besides, I’m admitting to it because I don’t do it anymore. Haven’t since I left this city a decade ago.”
He nodded, understanding the truth of my words. “Then why, Ms. Sutton, are you here?”
“Because I don’t have a fucking choice.” I sucked in a shallow breath because it was still the only thing I could manage and then told him all about Krissy and Roadkill, the deb
t and the tournament. “I don’t really know what else to do other than keep my entry to the tournament.”
Drake looked ready to throw me out of his casino right on my ass, but I kept talking. “I don’t want to do this, but the cops are no help and the gang has already killed the girl who owed the money.”
Why that didn’t let me off the hook for this dumb shit, I didn’t know. Then again, gangsters didn’t really require logic to do their crimes. “I’m certain I won’t win because I don’t play casino games anymore but if I place, the money will go back to you or the casino, I don’t care. I just have to be seen playing.”
As he stared at me, I could see in his eyes he thought I was crazy or stupid. My money was on both.
“This is a dangerous game you’re playing, little girl,” he said assessing me before he said anything further.
I shrugged, not bothering to respond to the comment meant to rattle me. “It’s dangerous either way. This way gives me a shot to live. I’m not trying to play on your sympathy, all right?”
“No?”
My laugh was harsh and bitter. “Fuck no. Not that you have any to give, but I’m not.”
“Then what are you doing?” he asked, brows arched high in question.
“I’m hoping for a fucking miracle.”
I didn’t know what I was thinking. Maybe he’d disqualify me because of my past; it was stupid, whatever it was. I could kick myself for even thinking this could work. I had yet to meet a person I could rely on, especially those of the male persuasion. I stood, biting back the wince in my ribs just in case he thought I was trying for sympathy again. “Thanks, anyway.”
“That’s it? You’re just giving up?” He shook his head and smacked his lips. “Guess you’re not the survivor you think you are.”
“Maybe not, but I do know when to cut my losses.” I was disappointed but not surprised as I made my way to the door, ready to get as far from him and this place as possible.
“But you haven’t lost, not yet. I have a counteroffer.”
He grinned, and I braced myself for a disgusting proposition that included me on my knees and his dick in my mouth.
“I’m listening.”
“My pastry chef ran off with one of my high rollers to live a life of luxury off the coast of Spain, and I have a new gourmet confectionery opening in three months. Will you be healed by then?” I shrugged and told him about the doctor’s six to ten-week prognosis.
“You want the job?”
Do I want a job making gourmet sweet treats for rich mother fuckers with money to spend and a discerning palate? Fuck yeah.
“Uhm, I do.”
Even though it meant I’d have to stay in Vegas, which meant letting Teddy and Jana and Savior draw me into a life filled with bikers. Bikers like Ammo, the best dude I’d ever known, but also bikers like Roadkill MC. It was a mixed bag of shit and I wasn’t sure I was ready for all that.
“You might want to have a backup in case my therapy doesn’t go as expected.” The way my life went, it probably wouldn’t.
“So we have a deal.” It wasn’t a question and we both knew it.
“We have a deal.”
“Good, because this makes everything easier. Be here Friday at five.” Before I could say another word, he picked up his phone and dialed.
Chapter 22
Savior
“What do you mean she never left town? I’ve spent the past week looking for Mandy from Reno to Santa Fe and now I find out she’s been in Vegas the entire fucking time?” Yeah, I was pissed. “What the fuck, Teddy?”
She shrugged and flicked her red hair off her shoulders, looking like she wasn’t fazed in the least. “She was on her way out of town when she was picked up by the cops on the side of the road. They wanted to talk to her about the murder of that chick who roped her into this shit. I’m surprised they haven’t questioned you guys yet.”
I was surprised too, but right now I had more important things to focus on, like where the hell Mandy was hiding. “So where the fuck is she?”
“She’s safe. She asked for my help and I gave it to her. And I’m not giving her up unless she’s in danger.”
Both hands went to my head, sliding through my hair and clenching my jaws. “She is in danger, Teddy! Don’t you get it?”
Golden Boy stepped between us, a dark scowl on his face as he cleared his throat. I didn’t blame him. I would’ve done the same damn thing if it were my woman. Teddy, though, didn’t seem all that amused. “Oh calm down, Tate. I can handle myself and I can definitely handle this big lug,” she told him and looked at me with an arched brow. “Besides I know that men have an inability to show real emotion and this anger is worry and fear and anxiety because the woman he loves is out there and won’t take his help.”
“Who said I love her?” Why did women just toss the word out like they were talking about an ice-cold beer?
Her head fell back and with one hand gripping her growing belly as she laughed, like it was the funniest thing in the goddamn world.
“Are you seriously that stupid?” She held up a hand and shook her head, laughter still erupting every so often. “I guess so. Well then, since you don’t love her then you should trust me when I tell you she’s fine.”
“She’s not!” I roared at her and the fact that she didn’t even flinch pissed me off and impressed me. “Roadkill MC is after her. They’ve already killed Krissy; do you think they’ll hesitate to do the same to her when they find her?”
I couldn’t even think about that shit. If they touched one hair on her head, I’d be forced to become the man I hadn’t been in years. The stone-cold killer who’d do whatever it took to protect his brothers. Both in the sandbox and here at home.
“Because you’re the only one who could possibly keep her safe, right?” One long pink fingernail poked me in my chest. “For your information, I paid for her room and she has a new car, which is why you, Mr. Nosy Butt, saw her old one at the car lot.”
When she was done yelling at me, Teddy stepped back and crossed her arms, waiting for me to say something.
“Tell me where she is, Teddy.”
“No. She’s my friend and she called me, not you. If she wants to see you, she’ll let me know and I won’t tell you a minute before.”
Damn, I couldn’t help but smile at her loyalty. Mandy thought she didn’t have anyone left who gave a damn about her, but she did. Teddy was as feisty as a mama bear protecting her cubs.
“Don’t smile at me like that, you piss me off,” she snarled, trying to hide a grin.
“I know I do, and you should be, but I still need to know where she is.”
“Because you love her?”
I groaned and palmed my face. “Really, Teddy? Right now?”
She flashed that cover girl smile and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Good luck.”
“Damn, you’re seriously not gonna tell me?”
“Nope.”
“Thanks for nothing, Cover Girl.” I winked at her shocked gasp and left, phone in hand to call the Reckless Bastards’ resident computer geek.
“Jag, I need your help.” I waited until I was out of hearing distance before I asked for this particular favor, knowing if I was Golden Boy, I wouldn’t appreciate it either.
“I need you to track Teddy’s credit cards. See which hotel she’s paying for.”
“Everything all right, man?”
“Fuck no, man. Mandy is still here in town and I need to find her. Now.” I could hear Jag’s fingers already flying over the keyboard.
“Fine, but when Golden Boy finds out, I expect you to have my back.”
I laughed because we both knew Jag was a certified badass with weapons and hand-to-hand combat, never mind his computer skills and GB would never find out.
“I’ll handle it,” I promised.
“All right. Keep your phone on, I’ll have something for you soon.”
Finally, one goddamn thing was going my way.
***
/> Teddy, that little liar, made me waste a full day searching for Mandy when she knew damn well she hadn’t paid for the hotel room, or if she had, it was in a different name other than her own. Driving around Vegas at night was a bitch. Pedestrian traffic meant everything took twice as long and by the time either me or Jag realized it, night had come and gone.
Imagine my surprise when I was strolling down the Vegas Strip, trying to see where she might have gone, when I got a text from Teddy with just one word.
“Siren.”
I smiled and doubled back, making my way to the newest casino to hit the strip. My footsteps faltered for a minute as all the pieces settled into my brain. Siren was hosting the blackjack tournament. Tonight. My speed doubled and it doubled again, my feet carrying me closer toward Mandy. Toward the casino where Roadkill MC was waiting to collect their earnings. Over my dead fucking body.
Once I made my way across the blue and green lobby, decked out to look like the sea with elaborate paintings of the sirens the place was name after, and through the clang and ding of the slot machines, the roar of wins at the table games, I finally spotted it. The bright lights, cameras and the hustle and bustle gave away the back room location of the blackjack tournament. Apparently, it was being televised. I didn’t know how the thugs convinced her to do this, but it must be serious.
I spotted Mandy talking with some slick asshole in a suit, his hand on her shoulder like he had a fucking right to touch her. She was my woman, goddammit. My hands itched to rip him away from her and pound his face until my knuckles bled. But she didn’t shrug him off or even look upset, so I stayed back. Far enough so she didn’t feel like I was interfering but close enough to jump in if I needed to.
The first thing I noticed was that she’d cut her cast back. Now it only covered her wrist so that her hand was free. She wore a top with long sleeves and if you didn’t know about her injuries, you might miss it. Her therapy must be going well, I thought. Shit. I’d fucking know that if she’d let me into her life.
“Sir, stay back please.” A big ass bald dude in all black blocked my view.
“Sorry. That’s my girl and I just wanted to make sure she knew I was here. For luck, ya know?” I flashed a friendly smile and the man nodded.