At this point, anything would be better than nothing. They needed a break in this case so badly, he was almost willing to make a deal with the devil if it meant they could put a stop to the trafficking of young girls and women being sold into the sex trade. He, Finn, and the rest of their team were so frustrated with the lack of progress. Morale was down, and they were beginning to fear they’d never catch a break.
Finally, Marcus lifted his head but avoided making eye contact.
“I have nothing to say to you.” Turning, he continued, “Guard, I’m ready to go back.”
He came over to release the chain that prevented him from leaving his seat, checked the cuffs were still secure and they left the room.
Frustration riding him hard, Larry fought to suppress the urge to hit something. Or someone. From behind him he heard, “Fuck!” He knew exactly how Finn felt.
5
Marcus paced the inside of his cell, or his cage as he thought of it. Fear ran like ice in his veins. How the hell had Larry managed to lay his hands on the documents he’d hidden in Tahlia’s bank deposit box?
She hadn’t known they were there. Besides, she was dead. The prison chaplain had come to break the news to him shortly after he’d arrived at Colombia Penitentiary.
At the thought of his late wife and Larry Keon, his face flushed, his heart rate elevating. Anger and hatred combined into a nauseating cocktail that had him clenching his teeth. They’d played him for a fool.
He’d entrusted his wife to the man’s protection, and instead, they’d fallen in love. He sneered. Fallen in love. How pathetic could one get? Love was a myth fostered by romance writers for the sake of making money. Anyone stupid enough to buy into the hype deserved what they got.
His parents had taught him at an early age that love didn’t exist. There was family loyalty and obedience, and nothing else. One did as they were told and kept their mouth shut, preserving family integrity. For the rest, a wife was a commodity to bolster one’s image and further one’s career. To be seen, looking good, but never heard. And never to embarrass one.
Tahlia had turned out to be such a disappointment. She’d failed to provide him with the prerequisite heir and then further embarrassed him by mooning over her personal bodyguard. And when he’d disciplined her, as his father had taught him by example, her family had interfered. Now he was caged like an animal.
A rage like he’d never known washed over him. Reaching for the closest thing, he hurled it across the small space with all the pent-up emotion that had built during his incarceration. A vein throbbed in his temple, muscles tensing as he stood breathing heavily. The book he’d thrown hit the floor with a thump, and he stared at it, unseeing as he got lost in his memories.
Slumped on his bed, he had no idea how much time had passed when the gate buzzed in warning before sliding open.
Ah, feeding time in the zoo. Watch the animals stampede. His sour mood hung over him like a storm cloud as he made his way to the dining hall for lunch. The exercise yard would be next. Same old, same old. Day in, day out. Simply rinse and repeat.
A shudder worked its way down his spine as he stood in the queue to collect his meal. Almost as if he were being watched. He shook the feeling off. He had nothing to hide. Let them look. But as lunch progressed, the uncomfortable feeling continued, and he started to feel anxious. What the hell had he done that might have pissed someone off?
A cold sweat broke out on his skin, and the food he ate turned to sawdust in his mouth. Swallowing the bite down, he pushed the tray aside and reached for the glass of juice he’d requested with his meal.
Marcus lowered his head, as if in prayer, and surreptitiously scoped as much of the dining area as he could without moving his head. He couldn’t spot anyone paying him attention, so either it was his imagination, or it was someone outside his field of vision. Anxiety had his stomach churning, and he regretted having eaten as little as he had.
Jumping to his feet, he made his way toward the door leading to the exercise yard. A bit of fresh air would help settle his stomach. A few men were already out there, some making use of the exercise equipment provided. He made his way over to a small table over near the fence.
The feeling of being watched had abated the moment he’d stepped outside. Marcus wiped a shaking hand over his sweating brow, taking a seat at the table. He took a few calming breaths and tried to figure out what could be causing the feeling.
His gut clenched as he thought back over his visit from Larry Keon and his FBI goon and wondered who, other than Administration, was privy to who his guests had been.
As he pondered his dilemma, a shadow fell over the table. Looking up, his heart sank. The last person he wanted to see was Sanchez Medina. He was a mountain of a man with a propensity for violence. He’d already been serving time for multiple counts of murder when Marcus had arrived. The man was also known as “The Enforcer” around the prison. If you were on his radar, it rarely meant anything good. Shit!
“You sitting in my spot, gabacho.”
Without a word, Marcus got up and moved out of the man’s way—he knew better than to argue. As one of Medina’s goons stepped in behind him, he realized he’d made a grave error. A person learnt early in prison not to let anyone get the jump on them. Giving someone the opportunity to get behind them made a person vulnerable. A situation to be avoided at all costs.
Swallowing hard, Marcus attempted to walk away when Medina grabbed his arm.
“I got a message for you, asshole.” Medina’s black, soulless eyes drilled into his own faded blue ones. “Mr. Hunt knows about your visitors, and he’s most unhappy. He doesn’t approve of the company you’re keeping.”
He could feel the color drain from his face at the man’s words. The thought that word would get back to anyone had never crossed his mind. Especially not Dylan Hunt. The man made Medina look like a choir boy.
“I– they’re ... They were uninvited and unwelcome visitors. They were chancing their luck in the hopes I would give them information, but I would never tell them anything. Honest. You can tell Mr. Hunt I have no intention of telling them anything.”
The man nodded, and Marcus gave a silent sigh of relief, grateful the man had taken him at his word. It was only when he felt an arm snake around his neck, he realized Medina hadn’t been nodding at him.
His eyes bulged, and his stomach loosened. He wasn’t stupid. He’d been in prison long enough to know this wouldn’t end well for him.
“Please, Mr. Medina, there’s no need for this. Mr. Hunt can be assured of my silence. I promise.”
“Yeah, you got that right. My associates are just going to demonstrate what will happen if you were to change your mind.”
His gazed darted frantically, searching for a guard in the hopes of calling out for help. There were none to be found. He began to struggle in the unseen man’s grasp, but he simply tightened his arm.
Just as spots started dotting the periphery of his vision, he felt the first blow to the side of his head. Marcus swore he could see stars. He would probably have fallen if not for the death grip on his neck. The first punch was quickly followed by more, in rapid succession.
The clutch on his neck loosened, and, unable to hold himself up under the assault, he fell to the ground. He curled into a tight ball, trying to make himself as small as possible, but the blows continued to rain down unchecked.
Drifting on a sea of pain, all he could do was pray he would survive the beating. Although, after what seemed forever, his entire body screaming in excruciating pain, he wasn’t sure he wanted his prayer answered. Just when he felt he couldn’t live through another blow, he felt someone clench his hair, pulling him into a sitting position.
“You best pick your friends more carefully in the future. Mr. Hunt won’t be so forgiving next time.”
The hand release him, and he crumpled to the ground, his head hitting the hot concrete. He couldn’t catch a breath, his body wracked with unbearable pain. Marcus could feel blood
trickling from his mouth but couldn’t find the strength to lift an arm to wipe it away. His eyes had swollen closed, leaving him unable to see his surroundings. But he could hear the commotion in the yard now that his battered and broken body was visible. And he prayed someone would call for help.
As he lay waiting, blessedly, unconsciousness claimed him.
6
Anger and frustration churned through Larry in a jumbled mess. He’d known Marcus wouldn’t volunteer information, but he’d thought the man would eventually come around to giving them something. They’d gotten nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.
Finn, never much of a talker, had said only one word since they’d first arrived at Colombia Penitentiary. But he could feel the man brooding. He knew he was feeling the same way Larry, himself, did. They’d been working this case for too long with no break and nothing concrete to show for their efforts.
If they could get Marcus to talk, Larry was sure the information would go a long way to solving their case. He was convinced Marcus was the key to cracking this thing wide open. Those accounting records, meticulous and detailed, told him Marcus was the man with the information.
Not far from their offices, Finn finally spoke up. “I could take a crack at him.”
“Yeah, much as I think you could probably persuade the good senator to be more forthcoming with info, I think we need to cool off some before either of us considers talking to him again.”
“Fuck it, boss. The man knows things. You can see it in his eyes. And that smug-ass grin of his just makes me want to put my fist through his teeth.” The contempt in Finn’s tone was stamped all over his face.
“Exactly my point.” Larry snorted out a laugh, despite his own irritation. He felt Finn’s frustration. Pulling into the parking garage of the FBI offices, he continued, “I’m going to drop you off and head out. I’ve got something I need to do. Take some time, go hit a punching bag, grab a beer, get laid, something – anything. Work off that mood. We’ll take another look at things tomorrow.”
Finn heaved a sigh, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders — shoulders tense and tight enough to snap under the hand Larry had placed on one.
“I know. I feel the same. But if we’re going to be any use to the girls these scumbags are running, we have to be smart about things. Let’s just take a step back and come at it fresh in the morning. Yeah?”
The shoulder under his hand shrugged. “Yes, sir. I’ll see you in the a.m.”
He watched as Finn got out and walked away before putting his vehicle in reverse. He pulled out of the parking garage and steered toward the beltway to take him to Georgetown. He had one of two options to get rid of the savage frustration riding his ass. Either he beat the hell out of something, or he fucked it out of his system. Tonight, the latter appealed to him, so, Club X it was.
The drive gave him time to think, and he was surprised to find his thoughts turning to Tahlia rather than the clusterfuck of a meeting he’d had with her ex-husband earlier. He wondered what she was doing at that very moment. He hadn’t seen her again since she’d given him Marcus’s accounting records.
From the day he’d laid eyes on her, a young bride still naïve enough to think her husband was wonderful, he’d known a lust like never before.
At five foot even, she was like a living doll—breathtaking, with her long hair of red copper and spun gold that glinted in the sun. Her cornflower blue eyes had seemed to see all the way into his soul. As if she could see all the scars etched on that blackened spirit and passed no judgment.
But it had been when they were introduced and she’d laid her tiny hand in his for a handshake that he’d been a goner. Her sapphire gaze had held his, and he’d fallen into that stare like a man saved. He’d never felt as protective of a woman as he did of Tahlia Forrester that day. Over the years he’d guarded her, he’d lost his heart to her gentle kindness.
Even though he’d gone on to marry someone else, he hadn’t loved Olivia like he’d loved his Lia. And now, when he thought back on it, he suspected his wife had known she was competing with someone else’s memory.
The club was a little quiet as Larry walked in. It was still early, and the regulars wouldn’t be in until later, but he’d needed to get away from the office. To take a moment and regroup. A quiet drink was just the ticket.
He strode over to the bar, lifting a hand to the barmaid at the other end serving another member. When she was done, she sashayed toward him.
“Welcome back, Sir. I haven’t seen you around in a while.”
“Thanks, Katy.” He smiled at the young woman.
“What can I get for you, Sir?”
“A pint of Guinness, please.”
“Coming right up, Sir.” Katy smiled at him.
He watched as she made short work of pouring his drink. Placing it down in front of him, she asked, “Can I get you anything else, sir?”
“No thanks, lovely. I’m good for now.”
With another smile, she wandered off to the other end of the bar to see if anyone else needed a top-up.
Larry wrapped both his hands around his glass, contemplating the inky contents. His thoughts turned inward once again, returning to Tahlia and his ex-wife. He regretted that he’d been unable to give to Olivia the love she’d deserved. She was a good woman, worthy of a man who could give her and their marriage one hundred percent. Not a man whose heart belonged to someone who could never be his.
At the time of their divorce, there’d been bad feelings between him and Olivia, but over the years since, they’d finally worked through their issues. Their relationship had been based on a friendship, and, back then, he’d hoped it would grow into more. But he’d not been capable of giving her all of him, and their friendship had begun to wither. By the end, they’d been barely civil. Thankfully, she’d forgiven him, and they’d found their way back to that closeness.
While he may be Dominant, he wasn’t an asshole. Well, not often anyway.
Feeling a thump on his shoulder, he looked around to find Jim standing there.
“Larry, my man. I don’t see you in ages then, all of a sudden, twice in one day.”
With a smile for his friend, he stuck a hand out. Shaking, he said, “Pull up a chair. What you having to drink?”
“You having Guinness?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll have one of those too, then.”
He lifted a hand to call Katy, placing Jim’s order when she stopped in front of them.
“So, what brings you by today of all days?” Jim asked.
“Needed to blow off some steam. What better way, right?”
“Yeah, I hear you. Pretty much why I’m here too. I take it you haven’t heard yet?”
A frisson of unease crawled up Larry’s spine. “Haven’t heard what yet?”
“Your man took a beating this afternoon. Makes me curious about who’s watching him and how they’re connected.”
The hand he’d reached out to pick up his drink froze, his whole body locked. That didn’t sound like it was coincidence. “What the hell happened?”
“Not sure yet. Waiting for Forrester to regain consciousness. And, of course, nobody saw anything. You know how it goes.” Jim took a swallow of the Guinness Katy had put down in front of him. “You know it can’t be coincidence, right?” Jim continued, echoing Larry’s thought of just seconds ago.
“What’d the doc have to say? Is he going to be okay?”
“He took quite a hammering. They weren’t particularly gentle. But doc says he should heal up just fine. Their only concern is the swelling on his brain. Only time will tell, I guess.”
Blowing out a breath, Larry rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Shit. Not exactly the kind of thing I wanted to hear right now, bud.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
Larry nursed his drink, saying nothing more. What was there to say? The damage was done. Nothing was going to un-ring the bell, so to speak. He would simply have to wait and
see what happened next.
Taking another mouthful of his Guinness, he spotted one of the regular subs walking towards where he and Jim sat. Ginger was one of his favorites. She was soft-spoken, gentle natured, with a body built to give a man pleasure. They’d played often over the years they’d been members at the club.
And, to be honest, she was the perfect antidote for the funk he was currently in.
She came to a stop a respectful distance away and waited to be acknowledged.
Larry turned in his seat and folded her in a bear hug. “Hey, gorgeous. It’s good to see you.”
“Good afternoon, Sir. It’s always a pleasure to see you,” Ginger replied.
Tapping a finger against his cheek, he asked, “Where’s my kiss, little one?”
Ginger leaned in to place a soft kiss on his cheek. Giving her another squeeze, Larry dropped his hand to rest on her hip.
“You meeting someone? Or just here to check the club out?”
With a shake of her head, she replied, “No, Sir. I’m not here to meet anyone today.”
“It’s been a while since we last played. You keen, little one?”
He saw her eyes light up with excitement. “It has, indeed. I’m always happy to submit to you, Sir.”
“Great. I’ll be another half hour, so if you wait for me in subs’ lounge on the second floor, I’ll come find you, sweetness.”
With one of her beautiful smiles, Ginger agreed before she wandered off in that direction.
Turning back to his friend, Larry lifted his glass. “Sláinte, my friend.”
Jim tapped his glass to Larry’s. “Cheers, man.”
Larry drained his glass, getting to his feet. “I’m off to shower and change. I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Jim replied. “Wanna meet up here at the bar for a quick drink later?”
“I’ll be here. See you in a while.”
He hastened to the changing rooms, suddenly eager to play. He was looking forward to doing a scene with Ginger. Stripping down, he grabbed a towel from his locker before going to shower. He wanted to scrub away the crappy day he’d had.
Trusting Laurence Page 5