Undercover Rockstar: A Bad Girls novel

by Ann, Jennifer

  Ryker and Stone tag along down a path that winds around to the backside of the property. Sasha crouches between the dense shrubs, goggles held to her eyes. After a full minute or two, she squeezes my arm without looking away. “Babe, you gotta see this!” She passes the goggles over with a big, beautiful smile.

  Behind the disgustingly large mansion made of stone, a crew of men scurry like rats across the immaculate lawn, arms filled with crates. Seems there’s half a dozen of them, and they’re all packing. Whatever they’re up to can’t be good.

  “They’re moving the product,” Sasha explains, turning to the others. “I was right—we had it backwards. They’re manufacturing the drugs elsewhere, then shipping them here, inside coconuts.”

  “Why here?” Stone asks.

  Emersyn points to the edge of the yard. “That side of the property’s barren. No buildings, no visible outlets. My guess? There’s some kind of tunnel that leads to the river.”

  Ryker’s head bobs in quick agreement. “The South Side was known for running intricate bootlegging operations back in the twenties. My uncle told me stories about underground tunnels they used to smuggle moonshine through the Great Lakes from Detroit.”

  Sasha reaches inside her shirt for her pistol, nodding to her friend. “Only one way to find out for sure. Let’s go in for a closer look.”

  “No,” Stone and I bark simultaneously.

  Emersyn’s eyes flicker upward. “Can we not do the testosterone thing?”

  “That’s not what this is. Ask her about her leg,” I demand, grinding my teeth together. “Ask her how well she can fuckin’ run.”

  Emersyn raises a brow in Sasha’s direction. “Well?”

  “I pulled a muscle,” Sasha insists. “I walked it off on the way here.” Her eyes cut over to mine. “It’s fine, Trent. You know I’m not backing out of this, so stop.”

  “I’m not backing out either,” I decide, stepping between them. “If you’re going in, so am I.”

  Emersyn throws me a sharp look. “If anyone shoots at us, don’t expect me to take a bullet to save your pretty ass.”

  “Won’t be a problem.” I pull my Beretta out from the back of my jeans, aiming it at the ground. “Got myself a conceal and carry after the Marines.”

  “Perfect,” Emersyn quips, starting for the hill separating us from the property. “Teaming up with a gimp and a jarhead…what could possibly go wrong?”

  I chuckle at her joke, though still plenty irritated over Sasha’s condition. Guess I’m gonna have to step it up if I wanna earn something other than a scowl from Emersyn.

  “We’ll keep a lookout from here,” Stone volunteers, taking the goggles from my hand. “Text if you need any more distractions.”

  Ryker holds Sasha’s stare, jaw working hard. If he didn’t seem so into his wife, I’d be jealous of her tight relationship with all these dudes. No mistaking they’d do anything for her, which I guess is a good thing. Her headstrong ass needs all the protection it can get.

  “Watch your back,” he finally tells her. Then his eyes meet mine. “Don’t let her do anything stupid.”

  Throwing him a look of assurance, I take off after the two women, heart hammering. Instinctively I’d rather go ahead. I’d been the squad leader in the Corp for a time, and always looked forward to the kind of adrenaline that’s racing through my veins. But this is different. It’s more like I’m waiting for a different kind of bomb to drop—something that’ll rip Sasha from my life just like Cali. And I’ve already caught enough flack from these women for sexist behaviors.

  We amble down the hill. Property’s enclosed by an 8-foot stone wall, no barbwire. The earthly scent of freshly mowed grass and stench of murky water from the riverbed nearby grow stronger. Aside from the chirp of crickets and frogs, it’s quiet as hell.

  “Still no cameras that I can see,” Emersyn says, starting toward the front of the property. “But they’re making them smaller these days. I’ll double-check the perimeter.”

  Sasha hooks a thumb in the other direction. It’s hotter than anything I’ve known to see her locked and loaded—even takes some of the tension away from the situation. “I’m going to check for alternative ways in,” she tells me. “Wait here for Em to return.” She throws me a pointed look before scampering away.

  Fuck that. Don’t wanna piss her off, but don’t have time or patience to wait this shit out. I’ve waited too long to bring Bentley down, and I’ve never been this close.

  Scaling the ten foot retaining wall, I hook a leg over, silently dropping to my feet on the ground behind a row of flowering bushes. Crouched between the shrubbery, I watch as the same dudes from the warehouse start back for the house, now empty-handed. They’re especially casual, all things considered. Can’t help wondering if they know that by helping their boss, there’s blood on their hands. Don’t know how anyone could live with themselves, knowing they’re responsible for a kid’s death.

  One of them staggers behind, stopping to light a cigarette. I wait until his associates are out of sight, then step out and grab him from behind, hand tight over his mouth. He drops his cig to fight back. Skinny little prick’s probably no more than nineteen or twenty. Younger than I was when I enlisted—balls probably haven’t even dropped yet. He’s no match for a guy my size. I drag him back into the bushes, and shove him down on the ground.

  Removing the firearm from his side holster, I press my knee to his throat. “Where are they taking the drugs?”

  He shudders beneath me, whimpering like a four-year-old. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man! What drugs?”

  “Stop wasting my time, asshole! We both know Bentley’s moving V in those crates!” Muzzle of my Beretta pointed at his kneecap, I snarl, “If you wanna walk away from this, tell me why the fuck they're movin’ them through his backyard!”

  Hands help up, he whimpers. “Okay, I’ll tell you! Don’t kill me! I have a son on the way!”

  “Where is Bentley taking them?” I demand, releasing the safety.

  “He’s running them through a—a tunnel…it leads down to the river. Bentley has a yacht in the marina—he…he…runs them to a freighter that ships real produce—”

  A metal click pierces the air. Cold metal presses to my temple.

  “Put the gun down, asshole,” a deep voice sneers behind me.

  The second I comply, a large fist comes at my face.

  Fuck.

  * * *

  I come to, face pressed against cold concrete, metallic taste burning my throat, gut clenching with the stench of standing water. A puddle of dried blood pools around me. When I press my fingers against my eye sockets, pain explodes inside my skull.

  Those motherfuckers broke my damn nose.

  Eyelids flipped back open, the outline of a man emerges from the darkness.

  As he nears, rage rocks me to the core.

  Bentley.

  Fucker’s dressed like he spent the day at a pretentious golf course, drinking bourbon and smoking Cubans without a care in the world. His beady eyes set me off—making me wanna claw the skin right off his goddamn face.

  He’s no man. He’s a monster.

  While stationed overseas, I’d killed more times than I cared to count. It was while on duty, under command. For the sake of protecting and serving my country.

  For the first time in my life, I’m hungry for murder. In cold blood. For the sole sake of revenge.

  It’d be satisfying to fire a bullet right between his dull eyes, watch his expression when he realizes he just inhaled with his final breath.

  Seeing him surrounded by buckets of blood, unblinking at the sky would bring a sense of relief…closure.

  Cali’s memory could finally be at peace.

  He stands with his arms behind his back, thin lips bent with humor as if remembering an inside joke. “Good evening, Mr. Risotto. I wondered how long it would take before we finally met face-to-face.”

  Tunnel swaying around me, I stand to face the asshole
who took everything. “Shouldn’t be surprised you know who I am.”

  “I was brought up to speed by my friends in blue. Ever since you were suspected to be the culprit of the vigilante-led arrests, they’ve been working diligently around the clock, trying to nail you and your little band of degenerates to the wall for killing Matthews.” He tilts his head, sneering. “But it seems there’s a mole in the mix that’s keeping you from going under.”

  “What we’re doing doesn’t compare to the shit you’re into—selling your personal brand of drugs to high school kids. How the fuck you sleep at night?” I square up to him, twitching and simmering to a level in which I no longer feel in control. “If the cops aren’t going to expose your operation, someone has to.”

  “Someone as in you and that hot piece of ass keeping your bed warm at night?” Head tipped back, his deep chuckles bounce off the stone walls, grating on my last nerve. “If you don’t think I don’t also know everything about the sexy little detective from Chicago that you’re sticking it to—the connections she has to Ryker Blackwood—you’re an even bigger fool than I thought.”

  Terror braids around my spine. He knows all about Sasha. And I fuckin’ left her out there alone, vulnerable to this monster’s claws. How long was I out? “I’m only gonna tell you this once, so listen up,” I snarl through a clenched jaw. “Stay the fuck away from her.”

  “Or what? You’ll kill me?” He bobs his head at something over my shoulder. Suddenly my wrists are being cuffed behind my back. “Now that would be a neat trick, considering you’re about to become fish food at the bottom of the Mississippi.”

  Struggling against the bite of the cuffs and the two men trying to restrain me, I grind my teeth through the unbearable pain searing at my temple. “I’m not the only one who wants you stopped, Bentley. Getting rid of me won’t do a damn thing.”

  Without a trace of worry in his expression, Bentley clicks his tongue. “Such empty threats from a man taking his last breaths.” Lifting his chin to his thugs behind me, he sneers. “Take him down to the yacht. Tell the captain to prepare for departure.” He covers the distance between us with one wide step, sinister smirk spreading across his lips. “Once you’re in Hell, be sure to tell your little sister I say hello. I was growing awfully fond of that sweet ass. It’s a shame she OD’d on that first experimental batch of V.”

  Veins searing, a tremor seizes my gut. “Motherfucker!”

  I head-butt the asshole. He rears back, crashing down onto the concrete like the feeble old man that he is. I start for him again, stopped mid-air by the sting of a bullet.

  Cali and Sasha’s beautiful faces flash through my mind as I collapse.

  14

  Sasha

  Vomit burns in my gut when I realize the truth.

  Trent’s missing.

  He went after Bentley on his own.

  Leaving him alone was asinine. Reckless. But I didn’t want him to notice my leg was starting to bother me more than I could bare. The pulled muscle theory has been replaced by a suspicion that something’s either fractured or broken, and I’m not about to stand down while he does my job.

  I knew when I asked that he’d never be able to step aside and let me handle Bentley. More than anything, I was hoping he’d think twice about it before he took action. Whether or not I’m able to forgive him once it’s all said and done, that stubborn son of a bitch better not get himself killed.

  With the din of a gunshot somewhere in the distance, terror grips my spine. I whirl around to face Emersyn. “You hear that?”

  She’s already reaching for her phone. “Time to call in for backup.”

  With the possibilities of what’s going down, the ground sways beneath my feet. What if Trent was shot? “I’m going in,” I tell her.

  “No, you’re not. It’s time to call in the local PD. Maybe even the feds.”

  I snatch her phone from her hands. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? We can’t trust them! This entire city’s corrupt!”

  “What about your sergeant? I thought you said Ryker trusts her.” Taking hold of my wrist, she reclaims her phone and shakes her head. “If anything happens to your man in there, I can’t be involved. This isn’t my jurisdiction, and I’m not here on any orders. I have to do this by the book, Sash. There’s no other way.”

  “You’re right, you can’t be a part of this.” Shoving my pistol into the back of my jeans, I shuffle backwards toward the wall, hands held out. “But I’m not going to wait around for backup when Trent’s life could be on the line. Tell the others I’m going in—have Ryker call Sergeant Kendall.”

  She moves toward me, eyes clenched shut. “Sash—”

  “No. You don’t get to tell me what to do this time. The man I love needs me. I’m not gonna let him down.”

  Her eyes roll to the dark clouds shifting in the sky. “I was going to tell you that you’re not going to clear that wall by yourself with the shape you’re in.” With a crooked smile, she grips my shoulders. “Look…I know you think I’m this cold-hearted bitch who’s incapable of love, but there’s a long list of things you don’t know about my past. I get that you want to save your man, and I’m not going to stop you. But first I’m going to alert the others to the situation. You’re gonna need help.”

  * * *

  Appreciation clogs my throat with the sight of Ryker, Liam, and Stone dashing to my rescue a small handful of minutes later, on alert and ready to roll. Whenever I’ve needed Trask’s friends, they’ve never let me down. All this time I’ve had a loyal family waiting in the same place I left them. Why did I allow myself to stay away for so long?

  “Sergeant Kendall’s on her way,” Ryker tells me. “I didn’t tell her everything, just that you and Risotto could both be in danger.” He must see the tears forming in my eyes, because he grasps my elbow with his long fingers. “It’ll be okay, Sash.”

  “I’ll fill the sergeant in on everything she needs to know once she gets here,” Emersyn offers. “You better find out what’s going on in there.”

  Liam glances down to where I’m favoring my leg. He snarls, intensity rolling off his skin. “Sure you wanna do this? Your man will have my ass for this.”

  I glare back at him, then pointedly at Stone and Ryker. “Did any of you hesitate when your women were in danger?”

  “Point made,” Liam huffs, running a hand over his face.

  Stone chortles quietly, scaling the wall behind Ryker. Then Liam lifts me into the arms of Stone waiting at the top of the wall, and Ryker assists me back down on the other side. I’m more grateful than ever for my three savage protectors.

  “The shot came from that direction,” I whisper, pointing toward what appears to be the entrance to a tunnel, just as Emersyn guessed. We stick close to the bushes lining the wall, blending in with the shadows, before slipping into the tunnel. It’s dank and the air’s shallow, making my lungs ache.

  With a breath that shakes my entire body, I point out a trail of blood several yards inside, highlighting it with Ryker’s flashlight. “Someone’s hurt,” I mutter as I’m taking off.

  Please don’t let it be Trent.

  “Sash, wait!” Liam calls after me.

  But I’m already running as quickly as my injury will allow, biting through the pain. The footsteps of the others faintly thud against the concrete behind me.

  The tunnel spits out to an old dock hidden among a cluster of over-grown trees, highlighted by the glow of a half-moon. With the sight of a faded wake settled over the dark water and the lingering odor of gasoline, panic sticks to my throat. A handful of smaller yachts nearby appear to be moored together for a late-night party involving stringed lights and blaring hip hop—most likely drugs and alcohol too. There’s no sign of a boat that could be harboring drugs and a hostage.

  We’re too late. Where would Bentley have gone? Did he take Trent as a hostage?

  Stone points his phone’s light at a spot in the water, just over the edge of the dock. “Over here—we ha
ve bubbles. Something or someone’s down there.”

  Without any forethought, I drop the flashlight and dive in toward the cluster, gliding through the warm river with the trajectory of a missile. I don’t let the searing pain in my side inhibit me as I swing my arms through the inky water, hoping to connect with a body part.

  The river’s current sucks me backwards, much stronger than I had expected. Before long I’m struggling to stay put. I wrestle against it with everything I have. For a heart-stopping moment, I’m terrified that this is the end.

  I won’t ever know Trent’s touch again.

  Won’t hear his dark laughter.

  Won’t see his scarcely brilliant smile.

  Maybe I wasn’t meant to live long. Like Trask.

  The water around me becomes a flurry of large bodies. Then I’m being hauled upward by a strong arm. At the surface I gasp for air, fighting against my rescuer with everything I’ve got.

  “Trent’s down there—I know it!” I scream hysterically. “Let me go!”

  “Stop fightin’ me, woman!” Liam warns, lips pressed to my ear. “Stone’s got him!”

  Struck with a sudden whimper, I cling to my old friend, face tucked against his wet shoulder. He grips the back of my head, kissing my forehead between muttered words of comfort. Around the time I’m convinced they can’t find Trent, Stone and Ryker pop back to the surface together, holding him up between them.

  My heart seizes with a painful lurch.

  He’s unresponsive.

  “Trent!” I cry, finally breaking free from Liam’s grip. I splash toward them with the grace of someone who can’t swim worth a lick, blinded by agony. Oh god…if he’s dead—

  “Get on the dock!” Ryker orders, waving me back with one hand. “We’re gonna need help lifting him outta the water!”

  Liam drags me back, lifting me onto the dock before scrambling to my side. Despite the night air’s warmth against my wet skin, I shiver violently while hanging over the side, watching them haul Trent back. Liam gives me a lingering hug, lips against my temple.