Pawn

by Kerri Ann

  “Yeah. Okay, Lucius.” She smirks before walking off to the bar.

  “Miss, Munch, Flight, and Smart. Church.” Miss called in everyone before the meet, locking down the club tighter than a virgin ass, and I’m more than happy for it. He was the right guy to be my VP.

  “Already on it, boss,” Miss answers. Looking around the room, I notice we’re minimal right now. There’s a lack of membership in the clubhouse. It feels awkward.

  “Where is everyone?” I ask him as we’re walking down the hall.

  “I had to send a few out on a run for food. We were low on groceries after the lockdown. They’ll be back any minute.”

  As he and I pass through the door and close it behind us, I ask the others, “Did Miss let you in on the meet today?”

  Nodding their heads, we run it down. While I show them the text from Death and the picture, the consensus is to bring blood to the San Bernardino streets. I know in my heart that King is behind this. Someway, somehow, he’s the culprit.

  Gathering up all the guns we can muster on the bikes without being conspicuous, we head out the door, leaving instructions with the guys left behind that no one enters but us.

  No one.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Oubliette

  “Hey, Panna. Up for a few rounds of guess the drink?” I ask her as I approach.

  “Hell no. The hangover lasted all day. I’m not sure I can handle restarting so soon.” Smiling and walking over to the bar with me, she takes the seat where she sat only hours before. “I heard Busta. Property, huh?”

  Yeah, that. “Well, I guess we’ll talk about it. I’m sure he’s offered it up before. I might have to take the jacket off the last girl first.” Grinning like a fool, I walk behind the bar, as Quiver isn’t there.

  “Last girl?” Giggling in her dark, throaty tone, Panna reaches over the bar, grabbing the wet cloth to wipe it down. “There’s never been a girl. Never mind a last girl, Oubliette.”

  “Never?”

  Another lady that was sitting at the bar, smacks her hand down and laughs. “No. Never. True thought Busta’d screw his way through the San Bern phone book. Stating property is a huge thing for Busta.”

  Her perfect, tight, shoulder-length black curls, meticulous make-up and dangling gold hoops create a beautiful lady. I’m jealous. My hair has wonky curls, my blue eyes and soft complexion makes me either burnt or stark white, and my ears are so small, they can’t hold a hoop that size. I damn well wish they could. I don’t know this lady, she wasn’t here when we were drinking before, so I introduce myself as I pour Panna and I a drink I call the Mummy. “I’m Oubliette. And you are?”

  “Scarlet.” Her voice is soft and saddened as she raps her long fingers on the bar. “True was my guy. The old VP turned pres, now dead.” Lifting a neat whiskey to her lips, it’s easy to see she’s been sitting here a while.

  The look from Panna tells me not to go there, but I do. I’ve never been one to shy away when someone was at my bar.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure he was a good guy.” Mixing a few of the liquors I need, I try to engage her.

  “He was an asshole’s asshole. He was nasty, mean, and downright awful. True was no more than a serial liar, killer, and manipulator.” She lifts her drink in a mock toast. “To True. I’m fucking glad you’re gone. No more...” She pauses. “Just, no more.” Downing the last of her glass, she lays it on the bar top and walks away.

  Blinking a few times, completely confused by the interaction, I finish making mine and Panna’s second drinks. The first won’t last long. Sliding it across to her, I ignore the oversized crazy camel in the room. That doesn’t stop Panna, though.

  “Sorry. She’s a box of chocolates you don’t normally want to open. She’s a bit messy. DG, True’s dad and the old president, had messed with her family, her, and her mind for years. She wasn’t an old lady, but she was True’s girl through and through. He wouldn’t admit to it, but she was loyal as fuck and so was he. It was DG that wouldn’t let him mark her as property, so she’s important, but not a protected member like being property would be.”

  “Got it.” I think.

  Shrugging her shoulders, she continues. “She’s not normally a wreck. Scarlet is usually the first to be sober in a crisis.”

  “I haven’t wanted to be the sober one in a crisis, so I envy her.”

  Leaning across the bar, moving closer to me, Panna whispers, “Can I tell you something?”

  “Bartender,” I state, like it’s a reason to trust me implicitly.

  “She’s been gone for a few days. Missing. I heard one of the guys say she’d been walked out of a police station by DEA agents, but it’s hearsay. I don’t put much in hearsay.” Leaning back again, she grins mischievously. “Now pillow talk. That I trust fully.” With a wink, she upends her drink to her mouth.

  Hell, I’m so happy I met this woman. I understand how Lucius says she’s his favorite.

  For the next hour, Panna, myself, and a few other old ladies gather around. We swig, swill, pour, pout, laugh and joke about life. It feels fantastic. The guys are still in their meeting, or those that were stationed to protect us and the families. They’re on high alert, and they stay far away from the bar. They leave us to our wicked devices, stating it’s not safe near me and my concoction brewing when they need their wits about them.

  Finally relenting when my bladder can’t handle more, after too many drinks and not enough breaks, I wander off to the bathroom. The last time here I was confronted. This time is no different.

  Opening the door, I almost slam straight into Scarlet. “Shit. Sorry, Scarlet,” I say, nearly plowing her into the sink.

  “No harm,” Scarlet replies as she turns to the mirror.

  Closing the stall door behind me, getting about my business as fast as I can, the rush feels almost orgasmic. Not like Lucius orgasmic, ’cause that’s fucking epic, but more like a moment alone in my own home kind. Finishing up after what feels like at least ten minutes, I walk out to wash up. Scarlet’s still here, leaning on the sink and looking at me. This is starting to be the weirdest meeting place ever.

  With a sweet smile, I ask her, “Could you pop to the side for a second, Scarlet? I’d like to wash up.”

  She comes out of her trance. “Yeah. Sorry.” She steps to the side.

  Turning on the water, rinsing my hands and drying them on the towel, Scarlet hasn’t moved. It’s unnerving, but like Panna said, she’s a bit messed up from the previous administration.

  “You know, I’ve been here a long time.”

  Oh shit.

  “And in that time, I’ve done what was best for my own survival. If I was told to do something, I did it. No questions, no balking at the request. I just did it.”

  This bathroom is starting to be my least favorite room. Even though the cell at the warehouse was a front-runner for the worst in my history, this bathroom is now making its way up to the head of the pack.

  “I’m being asked again to do something. I’ll apologize to you now, though.” Lifting a pistol, the silvery shine of it pointed my way, Scarlet has me fearing where this is going.

  Hoping I can talk her down, I try diplomacy. “Scarlet, I don’t know what this is about, but I’m sure there’s a better way out of it than to kill me.”

  “I’m not about to kill you. No. That’s not my job.” Lifting a phone, she hits a button and a call connects on speakerphone.

  “Yeah,” the voice crows over the tiny speaker.

  “I have the woman you asked for.” I don’t even merit a name. Well, that sucks.

  “Meet us at the side door toward the residence. I’m outside.” As he hangs up, she pockets the phone.

  “Time to go, Oubliette.” Swinging the gun my way, she indicates that I’m to go out ahead of her.

  Can I walk out and hit the front area without a bullet for the attempt? Probably not. But also, if the person waiting is somehow working against Busta, I have to find out who and stop them before t
hey ruin his club—or worse, kill him.

  He’s a good guy. It’s been a short time, but I’ve grown attached to the growly hunk. That means my intrepid intrigue is piqued. I want to know who it is.

  Praying that one of the burly guys will come down the hall toward us, saving me from the decision, I step out of the bathroom.

  “Whoa, sorry. I almost knocked you over.” Panna smiles as she grasps my shirt before falling backward.

  “It’s okay, Panna. No harm.” I hope my wide-eyed look attracts her attention, saving me from the fate of whoever the bachelor is behind door number two.

  “You better, Scarlet?” Panna asks with true interest.

  Looking over my shoulder at Scarlet, I watch in slow motion as a bystander.

  “Sorry I have to do this, but I never liked you Pandora.” Letting off a shot, there’s no sound in the tight corridor, and the shocked look on Panna’s face is just as insane as mine. Collapsing to the floor, I try to catch Panna on the way, attempting to break her fall.

  “Oh my God!” I yell out as I watch blood leech out of a wound in her waist.

  “Why?” Panna implores.

  With a stern gaze, Scarlet pushes the gun to my head. “There’s no other way.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Oubliette

  If I thought that seeing Nock die by my hand was bad, it was nothing compared to this. Holding my hands on the open wound, I desperately want to cry out for help. I can’t, though, not with the muzzle end of the gun on my head and the threat of ‘not a word’ spoken by Scarlet.

  “Stand up. It’s time to go.” She pushes the gun into my scalp. She must have a silencer on it because I don’t remember hearing a noise, and no one ran down the hall to the sound of a gunshot.

  “Panna—” I start, but Scarlet interjects.

  “She can yell out for help once we’re gone. Now up ya get. It’s time for your grand exit.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Come on, universe. I’ve had enough of this.

  Hitting me on the head, not so gently, Scarlet spews her sour words. “Yeah, I’m not one for kidding. Let’s go.”

  I shift Panna’s hands to cover the wound where my hands move from. “Panna, make sure you keep pressure here. Call out for Ret—”

  “Come on,” Scarlet impatiently calls out. “We don’t have time for this.”

  Looking up at her, I’m pissed. Truth of it right there. I’m seething mad that she’d let Panna die. How nasty is this lady, and how badly does she want me alive? If I rebel, will she kill me? Will she let me go?

  “She’ll die. Let me help her at least before—”

  Turning the gun, she points it at Panna and shoots again. “There. No reason for you to worry about her. Let’s go, Oubliette. I don’t have time for this.”

  Pulling my hair, yanking me off the floor, Scarlet directs me away. The whole time, I don’t dare take my eyes from Panna. I won’t let her die alone. Wrestling against Scarlet, I try desperately to stay. I pull down as she pulls up even harder. I feel the hair tearing and ripping, but it’s a small price to pay.

  “Fuck off!” Swinging wildly with my arms backward, hoping to hit any part of her that throws her off, I fight.

  “You don’t get it. You don’t get a choice.” Kicking me in the back of the knees, I fall over, but she pulls desperately on my hair, dragging me down the hall. I fight as hard as I can, that is, until I hear the wheeze of death from Panna. I never thought it would be a sound I could distinguish from another, but hearing it with Nock, it’s now a dark friend.

  With the gun at my head, she pulls at my hair. “Get up, Oubliette. Or I’ll wait for another club member to come down this hall and I’ll slug another bullet in someone. Your choice. Pandora only, or another dies too? Tick tock, Oubliette. Tick tock.”

  Pausing my fight, taking one last look at Panna and her deadened eyes, I rise off the floor. Standing toe-to-toe with Scarlet, I glare at her. Her eyes are cool, unfazed by the murder she’s committed, and uncaring that she’s quite content to cause further destruction.

  “Move,” is all she says, motioning for me to walk down the hall to the outer door.

  The door itself is solid, no light filtering through and no windows. Whoever is on the other side is a mystery. I can’t believe I’m in a dangerous situation again. I imagine being anywhere but here. Anywhere but here with her would be fine. I’d pay to be put back in that warehouse. At least I know I left a weapon. I’d have something to use against her.

  Changing tactics, using her psychosis of ‘I’m doing what’s best,’ I appeal to her. “I hope this is worth it to you. I hope giving up everything and everyone is worth it. You won’t have anywhere to turn that the Bows won’t find you.” I’m doing anything I can to appeal to her final thread of decency. I doubt there’s more than that single thread, since she’s dark and disgusting inside. She left Panna on the floor like trash and wouldn’t let me help save her.

  She doesn’t answer.

  Fuck, I need to escape.

  Walking to the door, I think of all the opportunities I have left to get away or to call out for help. Man, I always thought that clubs were full of men—strong, armed, dangerous and cunning. Not the case.

  This woman has entered the den of the dangerous and upped the game. After what Lucius told me of the Madox men, I don’t think she’s as much a victim as a full participant.

  Passing a few doors, one that is marked laundry, another supplies, nothing stands out that would help. Touching the handles, trying them to see if I can at least hide out, Scarlet smacks my hand with the gun. “Stop that. I already locked all the doors beforehand. Like I’d be stupid enough to give you an out.” Pushing the muzzle of the gun into the small of my back, against my spine, I grimace and walk on.

  Approaching the door, I think of only one other way out of this—push through and run like hell. Preparing mentally for the escape, setting my hand on the slam bar to pop the door, I turn and ask, “You know they’ll hunt you down. You know Lucius won’t stop. I hope whoever offered you this great prize understood what you’d give up getting it.”

  Placing the barrel on my neck, reaching around and pushing the door, she says, “What I got in return was more than worth it.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Oubliette

  With the light of day blinding me, I step out unwillingly. Temporarily blinded, I move toward the sunshine. Mainly as I don’t have another choice.

  “Well, well. I didn’t think you’d make it out here. I had bets on you, Scarlet.” Blinking to clear the light away, I’m shoved forward.

  “I said I could do it, sir. I knew I could. You need better trust in my abilities.” With the door closing behind us, Scarlet shoves me hard into the arms of the man outside.

  “So lovely to be introduced properly, Oubliette. You’ve caused me a lot of heartache and paperwork, young lady.” That irks me more than this hostage taking. The last person to call me young lady was my mother, pissed off at me for a dirty bedroom. She’s been dead for quite a while. The words carry a different meaning for me. It reminds me that I need to be the best I am, to show my parents that I could be better than that rotten teenager. That I can excel and be amazing at everything I do. This asshole calling me a young lady makes my blood boil.

  Now that my eyes have adjusted to the stark difference, I take in the man before me. It’s the prick at Lucius’ house the other day. King, Lucius called him.

  “Sorry to rush you away from your adoring fans, but we have somewhere to be.” He smiles at me, making my skin crawl. I’d rather a box full of scorpions running across my body than to be anywhere near this man. His whole demeanor and attire is skeezy. He’s not afraid to lie, cheat, steal, destroy, and start the cycle back over to get what he wants. Him, I’m afraid of.

  Looking around the area behind him, I search for something, anything that can save me. I’m disappointed that the nearest building is a good twenty feet away. The men are still in their meeting and they
’d never hear me from here, so I change tactics. Bravado it is.

  I cross my arms and plant my feet. “What do you want with me? I’m no one special.”

  “Au contraire, my friend. You are so special. It’s beautiful how much you’re needed.” He turns to Scarlet. “You’re needed more than her, Oubliette.”

  What?

  I don’t get it. I might be kind of missing something here, but she called him sir, so I have the feeling she works for him. So how does that make me more important?

  “I don’t believe you. Why would I be?” I finally ask.

  “Lucius. He’s my end game,” he answers nonchalantly, and without inflection. Pulling a pistol from his waist, he aims at Scarlet. “You’re replaceable.”

  Piping up, sounding stressed, Scarlet pulls me toward her. “You promised me, Magnus. My parents—”

  Firing a shot, I don’t dare look. I honestly don’t need to. Releasing her hold on me, feeling wetness coating me, and the thunk noise of a body hitting the ground, that tells me all I need to know. Scarlet’s dead.

  Another on account of me. Everyone is falling like the pieces on a chessboard. Each player that thought they were important are finding they were a lowly pawn. They can’t take down the queen. None have the strength. In this case, King, the knight, is still holding the power, holding the queen at bay. It’s a losing battle.

  “Now.” Holstering his gun with a flat expression, he tosses something to the ground. Taking a peek at it, it falls open at my feet with her picture and a badge that shines proudly. DEA. “How about we get this show on the road without further bloodshed. I assume you’d approve of that, right, Oubliette?” Spinning on his expensive shiny brown loafers, King extends an arm, asking for me to go first. In a daze, I start in the direction requested.