by Nicole York
“Do you have concerns?” Marcus walked around the back of the sofa and took a seat across from the ex-cop.
Cole didn’t fidget. He’d gained a lot of confidence since being hired on as a bodyguard at Kadia. Where he was floundering before, trying to find out what was needed of him and where he fit in with all this, he was now settled in a role that suited him. He was powerful and quick. All his police training paid off and he spotted things Marcus’s other men often missed. He was an asset.
“I’ve been in contact with some of my old fellow officers,” Cole said. “It’s taken some time to start the conversation. I had to be careful not to pitch this idea to the wrong person. So far, we have a tight group. Only a handful of officers.”
“How many is a handful?”
“Four.”
Marcus rubbed at his jaw. “I don’t like it. That’s four extra mouths capable of giving Cooper the heads-up. I know you’re still loyal to your department but let’s be honest with each other. The NYPD has dropped the ball too many fucking times to count. We can’t take any risks. If I were you, I wouldn’t bring in anyone else. Keep it simple. Tight. The fewer guys you bring in, the better.”
“I know these boys. We were practically brothers.”
“Brothers still stab each other in the back for the right price.”
Cole looked away, dejected. “What do you suggest, then?”
Marcus didn’t answer right away. His thoughts were scrambled. On one hand, he was dedicated to this conversation. It was of utmost importance. But on the other hand, his thoughts continued to be pulled toward Keesha and her sparkly green outfit and the look of sheer fury in her green eyes that had, more or less, left his cock so fucking hard in his pants he could have used it as a third leg.
That kiss…
She’d tasted like peaches and spice. Someone had been sharing some peach schnapps with her, he supposed. And the way she’d trembled beneath his touch as he held her to the door? It brought back old memories that had him aching for a release. He needed a good fuck to clear his head. A girl with a tight body and a face for forgetting.
Yes. That was what he needed.
And he knew just where to find one when this conversation was over.
“I’d drop a couple of these boys,” Marcus said. “If you know a cop you can trust the lives of this entire Syndicate to, use him. Nobody else.”
“We’re going to need more muscle than just one cop,” Cole said incredulously. “This is Adam Cooper we’re talking about! The guy is likely building a fucking army of his own out here, getting ready to come for us, and you want me to narrow this down to one cop?”
“Yes. Do you know one?”
Cole shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was crooked from a history of breaks. Being a cop hadn’t been kind to his body. “I never should have agreed to this shit.”
“But you did. And we’re too far in for you to pussy out now.”
Cole sighed and let his hand fall to his lap. “I know one guy who I might be able to talk to. But it won’t be easy. I’m going to need some time. He’s from out of town.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed. “You want to pull in from a different jurisdiction?”
“He’s our best shot.”
Marcus’s gut soured.
He didn’t like the sound of that. But when he and Cole first started talking about this, he’d agreed to let the ex-cop take the lead where the police were concerned. He knew more. There was a good history there where Marcus’s history with the police was less than good. That was for sure.
“I’ll leave it to you then,” Marcus said.
Cole nodded and slumped back against the sofa. “I finally got Cooper’s file sent over. He’s cleaner than he should be, Marcus. Way cleaner. A guy like him should have a thorough rap sheet. But Cooper? He’s got a few misdemeanors. Everything else has been wiped clean. That only means one thing.”
Marcus didn’t like where this was going. “And what’s that?”
“He has friends on the force, too.”
Marcus yearned for another drink but he stayed where he was. He’d already had quite a few, and getting shit-faced while he was at Kadia was a reckless decision. If something went down, he needed to be prepared. Not drunk.
“We should’ve expected that,” Marcus said.
Cole nodded his agreement. “We should have. But we know now. I think we might have to start wrapping our heads around the fact that we might be in over our heads trying to do this legally. But I’m going to try. If it doesn’t go how I want, I’m handing it over to you.”
“You get one shot.”
“I know. All I need is to catch Cooper red-handed. I need to create the evidence. I need to build a case so strong around this fucker that no judge can turn him out or dismiss the charges. I need more than a smoking gun, man.”
Marcus smirked. “Isn’t there a term for that?”
Cole arched an eyebrow.
“Entrapment?” Marcus supplied.
“Shut the fuck up. Are you in, or are you out?”
Marcus chuckled and rose smoothly to his feet. Cole stood as well and accepted Marcus’s outstretched hand. They shook. The ex-cop had a firm grip. “I’m in. Now get out of here. I have shit to do.”
Or bitches to fuck.
Cole left without another word and didn’t bother closing the door behind him. Marcus waited a beat before leaving and making his way down the hall and out into the open area on the third floor. The lights were flashing and the music rolled over him and vibrated through his bones.
He scanned the girls on the platforms swinging themselves around on poles.
One of said girls was Keesha. She had her back to him as she pressed the pole to her spine and slid down its length into a crouch. He watched, as transfixed by her beauty as the men in front of her, as she pushed her knees apart and flashed them the little strip of green fabric covering her pussy.
Marcus wished he could be between those thighs right now.
He gave his head a shake.
A nearly naked server brushed past him with a tray of empty glasses balanced on her right hand. She flashed him a cheeky smile and the strobing lights painted her fair skin in shades of pink and blue. She had short blonde hair and big brown eyes, and Marcus didn’t think he’d fucked her before.
He wanted something new. Something tight.
He caught her elbow and pulled her toward him. A breathless sigh left her as he held her close and nodded at the tray of empty drinks.
“Do you have orders to fill?” he asked. His cock was already hard and pressing uncomfortably against the inside of his pants.
She shook her head so vigorously, a strand of hair got caught in her lip gloss.
Marcus pulled the hair from her cheek and cupped the back of her neck. The tray in her hand swayed as she nearly dropped it. Marcus caught it and helped her balance it as he smirked. He loved when a girl succumbed to his presence like this.
He let his fingers wander up into her hair. “I need to blow off some steam, baby.”
She pinched her bottom lip between her teeth. “Use me.”
8
Keesha
Keesha’s mother’s table sat in a patch of sunlight in front of the sliding patio doors onto her condo balcony, which would be littered with beautifully colored flowers in the next month or so when the weather really warmed up. For now, it was bare, save for a strip of Christmas lights attached to the railing with zap straps her mother couldn’t be bothered to take down.
Keesha sat with her back to the sun and enjoyed the warmth of it on her back as she took a sip of chilled white wine.
The table was nicely set. A blue and white checkered tablecloth sat beneath royal blue chargers upon which their dinner plates lay, burdened with food. It was a feast fit for kings with lasagna, garlic bread, and Caesar salad. Keesha had just finished cutting up Beth’s portions into small bite-sized pieces and was now digging into her own food.
“This is s
o good, Mom,” Keesha said.
Her mother, who sat across from her, smiled delightedly. “I’m glad you like it. Robert, is yours good?”
Keesha glanced at her brother. His mouth was full of lasagna and he didn’t dare speak. So he nodded and mumbled through his full mouth of food.
Beth giggled.
Robert washed his lasagna down with a sip of iced water. “Delicious, Ma, thank you.”
Beth gave her grandmother a big toothy grin. “Thank you Nana!”
Keesha’s mother reveled in the gratitude and the compliments about her cooking before Robert changed the subject and started telling them about a crazy neighbor in his townhouse complex who was walking around and reporting people’s bad park jobs to the authorities.
Keesha only half paid attention. Her mind was on other things. Other dark, brooding, bald-headed, merciless things.
Marcus.
How could she dislike a man so much but still want to know him? To touch him? To feel his strength crushing her against a door again?
She shuddered at her own depravity. There was something wrong with her. That part of her life was supposed to be in the past, where it belonged. She should have fought harder to keep the lines between her and Marcus in place when she’d first started at Kadia. It would have made things a hell of a lot easier to deal with his mood swings if they hadn’t already started sleeping together.
And if she didn’t want to do it again so damn badly.
The kiss he’d stolen her breath with last night still lingered on her lips like the dull ache of a healing burn. It had been driving her insane all day. She could taste him, too. Whiskey and sex incarnate. Power. Ruthlessness. She tasted it all in one kiss.
Then he’d kicked her out and slammed the door in her face.
The thought stirred up anger again and she jabbed at her lasagna with her fork.
“Take it easy there, sis,” Robert said, eyeing her plate. “What did Ma’s lasagna ever do to you?”
“Sorry,” Keesha said. “Just thinking about work stuff.”
“Kadia?” her brother asked knowingly.
She hated the knowing suspicion in his voice. And she also hated how her mother looked up, waiting for her to trash talk her job at the club.
Keesha shook her head. “No, the salon actually. Just some stupid stuff with the girls. There are cliques there. You know how it is. Kind of high school.”
She wasn’t lying. She was just inflating the truth. The girls could be catty. It had never impacted Keesha specifically but she had no intention of piling on more things for her family to dislike about her stripping job. She was nothing without it.
Keesha looked over at Beth as she struggled to pierce a crispy piece of lettuce with her fork.
Her daughter deserved a comfortable life and the only way Keesha could provide that right now was by staying at Kadia. Besides, she liked to dance. She liked using her body. She’d never seen anything wrong in enjoying a strip show. Hell, she’d gone to hundreds when she was younger before she ended up taking to the stage herself one night at a hole in the wall strip joint back in New Orleans. She’d never told her mother she started stripping when she was underage with a fake ID. Some things were best left untold.
The family finished their meal together, and after Keesha cleaned up the dishes and the kitchen, she fetched her work bag from where it waited in the living room and told the others she had to go. Beth had plopped herself down on a blanket in the living room to watch her evening cartoons, so Keesha gave her a kiss and a snuggle and told her she’d see her soon.
“Bye, Mommy,” Beth said with a sleepy yawn.
“Bye, baby.”
Keesha’s brother followed her to the door and fished his truck keys from his pocket.
“You leaving too?” Keesha asked.
He shook his head. “Nah, I’ll come back for tea with Ma. But I’m going to drive you to work.”
“You don’t have to. I like taking—”
“The bus? Yeah, so you say. Just let a big brother help out his sister every now and then, won’t you?”
Keesha stepped out the door into the hallway and Robert followed. They walked side by side to the elevator. “You help out plenty. Especially with Beth.”
“Uncle duties and brother duties are different.”
They stepped onto the elevator. “So you’re only driving me because it’s your duty?”
He shot her a sideways glance and jabbed the button for the lobby. “Do you always have to bust my balls?”
She flashed him a smile and shouldered her bag. “Just doing my sisterly duties, Rob.”
The pair of them continued to mess around as they crossed the lobby and went out the back door to the covered parking lot out back. Robert’s truck, a shiny black newly financed beast, waited for them. Keesha hoisted herself up into the cab and buckled up before Robert pulled out of the lot and pointed the headlights toward Kadia.
It was a much shorter drive not having to take the bus and make so many stops, so they pulled up in front of Kadia a good forty-five minutes before Keesha’s shift started, giving her plenty of time to get ready and make small talk with the girls. She could use it. She was too in her head today because of her exchange with Marcus last night and she needed to take the edge off.
She took off her seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride, Rob. Seriously.”
Robert leaned forward with one hand resting on the wheel and peered up at Kadia’s flashing lights in front of them. The line had already begun to form, and two thick-necked, broad-shouldered security guards were shining flashlights on IDs and letting people in.
“Are you sure this place is safe, Keesha?”
She gripped the door handle and offered her brother a reassuring smile. “Yes. I told you. My boss is an old friend. He looks out for me and all the girls inside. It might look rough, Rob, but Kadia is the real deal. I’m safe here.”
Robert frowned. “An old friend, huh? Anyone I know?”
Keesha popped open the door, slid off the seat, and hopped down onto the sidewalk. “Maybe.”
Candy, a bombshell and a half of a stripper with long blonde hair and legs made for twirling around poles, pushed her way through the beaded curtain into the changing room. “Bitches!” She cried as she hoisted a black drink tray over her head. “I have shots courtesy of Dean. Tequila on the right, vodka on the left. Pick your poison.”
Candy set the tray down on her own vanity and the girls in the back room flocked to her to help themselves to a shot, Keesha included.
Normally, it was easy for her to turn down a drink. But tonight, she needed it. She opted for tequila, tossed it back, licked her lips, and set the empty shot glass back on the tray. When nobody claimed the remaining three, she helped herself to another.
“Rough day?” Candy asked.
“Rough dinner with the family,” Keesha muttered.
Candy put an empathetic hand on her shoulder. “I know how it can be. Some people will never understand unfortunately. But you’re a boss-ass bitch. We all are. Do any of us have debt?” She raised her voice so the whole room could hear her.
“No!” a bunch of girls cried.
Candy flashed a cunning grin. “Do we have retirement savings?”
“Yes!”
“Do we have round asses and perky tits and wallets full of cash?”
“Yes!”
Keesha laughed and Candy put a finger under her chin. “Chin up, pretty girl. Things could be worse, right?”
Candy was right, of course. This was a culture. Stripping was a way of life. And it did provide. Keesha had to get out of her own head and stop worrying so much about what her family thought of her. They didn’t understand. Keesha wasn’t doing anything wrong here. She just didn’t have the same opinions on sex and nudity that her family did.
Besides, this was temporary.
She left the back room with higher vibrations than she’d carried when she first arrived for her shift. She walked with purpose, stomping her
heels with every stride and criss-crossing her legs so her hips swayed dramatically as she crossed the dance floor. This strut through the club was a necessary part of her nightly routine. She’d cross the first floor and meet Dean at the bar, where she’d butter up some men and women she could tell were interested in her. Tonight, she might even accept a drink or two. She’d tell the customers where to find her up on the third floor and that she’d make their night special if they did.
Then she’d leave them wanting more and make her way through the second and third floor before hitting the stage.
She called it recruiting. But really it was a game of seduction and cat and mouse. And people loved it.
So did her wallet.
As Keesha approached the bar, her attention was drawn to the right, where two men were speaking in shadow beside the emergency-exit door into the alley.
One of the men was Marcus.
The other, a tall reddish-haired man in a plaid shirt, had his back to her. He seemed angry, and he was making a lot of gestures with his hands. Marcus seemed to grow more and more agitated.
Then she and Marcus locked eyes. His jaw flexed.
Frowning, Keesha moved toward them, wondering what the fuss was about.
Then the man in plaid turned around and pointed at the bar.
Oh shit, Keesha thought. Robert!
She rushed forward. Her shoulder clipped that of a patron leaving the bar and she apologized as she rushed toward Marcus and her brother. When she reached them, she grabbed Robert’s arm and spun him to her.
“Rob! What the hell are you doing in here?”
He pulled away from her. “I came to talk to this boss of yours for myself. This is the guy you think is going to keep you safe?”
Marcus arched an eyebrow. “Watch it, champ.”
Robert turned a foul stare on Marcus. “I remember you, fucker. You were always bad news for my sister. She deserves better than the likes of you staring at her all fucking night like a slab of meat.”
Keesha’s cheeks burned and she stepped between the two men. “Rob. This is completely inappropriate. You can’t come into my place of work like this. Please, go home. I can take care of myself.”
