Killer Curves
(Dangerous Curves #3)
By Marysol James
© 2015 by Marysol James.
All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, including information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design: www.doc2mobi.com
Cover photo: © Pixelsinfonie/Fotolia
Dedication
For D.
For emerging from the darkness.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
About the author
By the same author
Chapter One
Gabriela Torres glanced at her watch and felt a combination of exhaustion and panic. It was past midnight and she was supposed to have been out of the building more than an hour earlier. But Juana hadn’t shown up – yet again – so Gabi was stuck cleaning the whole damn place on her own – yet again.
She sighed, stretched her neck and shoulders. Lord, what she wouldn’t give for a whole day off. She’d sleep late and have doughnuts for breakfast and hang out on the sofa watching bad TV. She’d order in something greasy and delicious for dinner and then drink cheap wine in a bubble bath. But days and nights off were non-existent in her life and that was just her reality. At least for now.
Gabi poured water in to the huge metal bucket and added the industrial-strength floor cleaner. She paused, looked down at the floor, threw in a bit more. What the hell happened here, anyway, to make this place so damn filthy? Yeah, it was a garage, but this was meant to be the kitchen area. She cleaned like a mad woman and every time she walked in to this place she wondered if she’d actually been there two nights before. But it kept her in a job and that’s all that mattered, really.
She mopped the floor, waited impatiently for the twenty minutes that it took to dry. It was now inching towards one o’clock and she stifled a yawn. The temptation to not wash a second time was overwhelming, but Gabi wasn’t a woman who took shortcuts. Not even when she wanted to just lie down and sleep – even this hard floor looked comfy right now.
She had just finished washing the floor again and was dumping out the now-gray water when she heard a car outside. She stopped dead, her breath ceasing to inflate her lungs. She looked around, freaking out now, wondering how fast she could get out the back door.
Gabi wasn’t supposed to be here… Mr. Spicer had been very, very specific on that point when he’d hired her two years before. Her hours were from five p.m. to eleven p.m. three times a week, and not one minute before or after. Tonight wasn’t the first time she’d had to stay late because of Juana – but it was the first time that anyone else had shown up.
She hurried to the counter and grabbed her purse. She’d just managed to switch off the supply cupboard light when the front door opened. She heard two voices, at least two sets of footfalls, a sound like dragging. The men sounded angry – very, very angry – and she inched backwards, barely breathing.
“Put him here,” a man said. “Is there any tape?”
“Yeah,” another man said. “In that drawer.”
Gabi heard something sliding, assumed it was one of the drawers in one of the many free-standing tool boxes around the garage. She turned on her tiptoes, kept walking to the exit. Then she remembered her jean jacket and mouthed a silent curse to herself. Where the hell did she leave it? She paused, trying to remember. That was when all hell broke loose in the other room.
A man was shouting now, but the sound was muffled. She froze when she heard a sharp crack and then it sounded like a body hitting the floor; as realization hit her, she forced back a small scream.
Somebody hit him. His mouth is gagged. The one guy just asked for tape. This is bad news and I need to get out of here now. Right now.
“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” said a man in a deep growl. “One more sound out of you and we’ll make it slow and painful, I swear to Christ.”
More muffled sounds – crying? begging? – and another punch. Gabi was frozen in place now, too frightened to move, too terrified to stay.
Should I take a look? Maybe I can get out and call the cops and describe these guys?
“OK, Miguel.” A different man talking now; a second one. This one was quiet, almost friendly and Gabi immediately knew that he was the one she really wanted to get away from. “So we need to do a few things. Yeah?”
More muffled screams, sounds of struggling. Another crack, silence descended.
“I’ve always liked you, you know.” The second man sounded amused now. “You played by the rules for a long time, but what you’ve been doing lately? Moving in on Kirk’s territory? Not cool, man. We can’t stand for that.”
Sobs now, more incoherent pleading.
“Shut up.” Quick as a knife-flick, the man’s voice was all coiled up and freezing cold and Gabi automatically shivered. “You knew the risks when you decided to start selling in Kirk Jensen’s neighborhood. Did you really think we’d never find out? Fuck, man… it’s our job to keep an eye on his interests. You knew that.” He paused. “Hey, Ace, hand me that tire iron, yeah?”
“Sure, Trigger,” the first man said, who Gabi assumed was Ace. “Have fun, man.”
Tire iron! Gabi’s eyes widened. She needed to leave. Forget her jacket, forget getting a description for the police, forget everything. All that mattered was getting out in one piece and calling for help. Immediately.
“Aw, just kidding.” Trigger was amused again. “No tire iron, OK?”
Gabi heaved a sigh of relief, thinking it may all still be OK for this Miguel guy somehow, maybe they were just trying to scare him. That was when she heard the gunshot.
“Fuck, man,” said Ace, the admiring tone clear in his voice. “Smack between the eyes as always. Goddamn quick-draw, huh?”
“I just didn’t feel like wasting any more time on the prick. I got some pussy waiting on me back at the club and I want to get there now. Fucking beating a man to death takes too long.”
“Uh-huh. Way messier, too. This is bad enough as it is, and you did it pretty fucking clean.”
“Yeah, well, they don’t call me ‘Trigger’ for nothing. Go grab the mop from the supply closet and we’ll get the hell out of here.”
Incredibly, Gabi felt total calm come over her now. She knew she was seconds away from being discovered and undoubtedly killed, so this would be an ideal time to lose her shit.
&nbs
p; Instead, she took a deep breath, turned on her heels and almost casually walked out the back door. She closed it carefully and with the smallest click possible, spun around, made a break for her car. Thank God she’d parked two blocks over, so when she started the engine, the sound was lost in the city noise.
Back at the garage, Ace stood in the kitchen holding the mop that he’d found in the sink, his dark eyes narrowed.
“Hey, Trigger?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you come in here for a sec?”
Trigger appeared in the doorway. “What?”
Ace motioned with his chin to the floor. “That’s what.”
The two men stared down at the small footprints clearly marked in the still-damp floor.
Trigger – President of the Fallen Angels MC – glanced at his VP. “We got a fucking problem, man.”
**
Gabi tore down Crown Blvd., checking the rear view mirror obsessively, shaking and panting. It wasn’t until she got a good three miles away that her breaths started to come more easily. She spotted a 7-11 and even though this was a damn lousy neighborhood to stop in, she had to. She was almost crying and she thought she might puke.
She pulled up as close to the store as she could, glad for the fluorescent lights. She didn’t want to get out of the car but she needed some air, so she rolled down her window a bit. The mid-May night breeze was cool and refreshing and she sucked it in gratefully, holding the steering wheel in a death-grip.
Her panic was lessening and she took deeper breaths. OK. She needed to think now, think clearly and well. She had just witnessed – well, kind of – the murder of a man named Miguel by two guys named Trigger and Ace. Whatever the hell it was all about, she knew she didn’t want to know any more than that. Lord, even that much was far too much.
I was never there. Right?
Something nagged at her, though, something was lurking in the corner of her mind. She tried to think what she was missing, what she’d forgotten. It was when her shivering in the chill turned to shaking and she looked in the back seat for her jean jacket that she remembered.
Fuck. I never found it.
She closed her eyes, fought hard to stay in control. A shriek of terror and shock was working its way up her throat and she swallowed it down. Losing her mind would accomplish exactly nothing, and it may even get her killed yet.
Think, Gabi. Think. What the hell are you going to do now?
OK. She needed a place to hide out and get herself together. Someplace safe, someplace she knew and no way she was going home. She needed to lay low for a while, get her story straight about her jacket. She could have just forgotten it when she left the garage at eleven o’clock precisely, right? Sure she could have. But she had to practice that story until it rolled off her tongue, until the lie became the truth. Just in case someone came asking.
Who’d come asking? I don’t want to know.
Shaking off her fear, she started the car again. She knew now where she had to go and even though it was far from ideal, it was hands-down the safest place she could think of. The irony was that it was one of the last places in Denver that most people saw as safe.
Dangerous Curves.
**
Aidan Carter was just getting ready to go home when he saw Gabriela walk through the door of Curves. As always when he first lay eyes on her, his whole body went hot as the force of his want sucker-punched him smack in the chest and the balls.
From across the room, he allowed himself to openly stare at her. Her long, black hair was tied back in its usual messy ponytail, her jeans and shirt were her baggy work clothes. Her perfect golden skin looked worryingly pale and those beautiful dark eyes had purple smudges under them. She looked tired and stressed and Aidan thought that she was easily the most gorgeous, stunning woman he’d ever seen.
She looked around now and something about the way she was moving gave him pause. He zeroed in on her heart-shaped face – those plump lips and curved cheekbones both begging for his rough fingers to stroke them – and he tensed up at the expression on it. She looked… off.
Scared?
She saw him now and the look of relief that flashed across her face was unmistakable. He felt worry and protectiveness moving up his chest as she rushed across the room to him.
“What’s wrong?” he said.
She faltered. “Why – what makes you think something’s wrong?”
“Come on, Gabriela. It’s the middle of the goddamn night. Also? You look totally panicked.”
“I do?”
“Yeah.” He glanced around. Curves was full of its usual early-morning bunch of potential troublemakers, drunks and ex-cons. A dozen members of The Road Devils MC were also in attendance tonight, and a few of those assholes were looking at her in a way that he wasn’t the slightest bit crazy about. He nodded at Alex to watch the bar and he took her arm. “Come on. In to the staff room.”
Meekly, Gabi allowed him to march her down the hall and open the door for her. As soon as they stepped inside, he turned on her. “Now what’s up? What are you doing here at two o’clock in the fucking morning?”
Gabi stared up at Aidan, a bit taken aback at the anger on his handsome face. His golden eyes were fierce and his usual laid-back vibe was nowhere to be seen. She cleared her throat and launched in to her prepared little story.
“I lost my house keys. I’m locked out.”
“Really?” That certainly explained the tension.
“Yeah. I – I left the garage at eleven and didn’t realize the keys were missing for about twenty minutes. I’ve spent the past three hours retracing my steps and looking for them everywhere. No luck.”
“Wait,” Aidan said. “You’ve been running around Montbello alone? At this time of night?”
Gabi faltered at the look on his face. “Yes?”
“Gabriela, that is stupid. Really stupid. You know that garage is in a bad neighborhood. Why didn’t you call for help?”
“Because I thought I’d find them.” She shrugged. “And I’m here now, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, OK.” Aidan paused. “So you want me to break in to your apartment for you?”
“You – what?”
He grinned now and it was like the sun coming out after a gray and rainy day. Gabi almost sighed with longing as Aidan’s golden charm reappeared: the man was nothing less than staggeringly mouthwatering and she still couldn’t believe that a guy like him actually existed in her orbit. Tall, muscular and built, shaggy blond hair, eyes the color of a blazing sunrise. And that Texan accent? It was like having warm honey poured all over her every single time he opened his sexy, sensual mouth.
“Yeah,” he said in that deep voice. “I have a bit of… skill in that area.”
“In breaking in to houses?”
“Not specifically. I’m just good at opening locked things and places.”
“You are?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh.” She blinked; she hadn’t been expecting this. “Well, I don’t think breaking in to my apartment is such a great idea.”
“No?”
“No. Better not. Ummm. Maybe I can – I can stay here tonight?” This was what she really wanted, of course, and she hoped that he wasn’t going to offer some other reasonable solution.
Astonished, Aidan stared at her. “Here? At Curves?”
“Yes.” She tried not to look too desperate. “I know that only one room is rented for tonight – I put the guest towels and stuff in there this morning. That leaves three free rooms.”
“Well, yeah, there are some rooms available,” Aidan said slowly. “But I don’t like the idea of you staying here… not with those MC guys out there.”
“Oh, Aidan,” she chided him. “It’s not like I’d be all alone with them. Who’s bouncing tonight?”
“Curtis and Ale
x.”
“Well, there you go. Let them know that I’m back here and I’m sure they’ll keep an eye on my door. Right?”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t argue with that, but he really fucking wanted to. He gazed down at her from his massive height, tried to think what exactly to object to because goddamn, he wanted to fight her on this.
Curves wasn’t the most upstanding place on earth and trouble could start here in the blink of an eye. If any shit went down, Aidan knew that Curtis and Alex could possibly have their hands full of ex-cons with knives or guns. At the very least, they’d have to contain a bar brawl that involved stitches and broken bones for the drunken participants. They’d take care of Gabi, no question, but that would be after the dust settled.
“OK, so,” Gabi said. “I’ll need fresh bed clothes and some towels. And can I get some soap and shampoo?”
“Hold up there, darlin’,” he said, determined to resist this whole idea despite the fact that she clearly thought it was all settled. “You could always stay with me tonight.”
She almost fell backwards. “With you?”
“Sure.” He tried to look nonchalant about it, though the idea of having her in his home was causing him heart palpitations – both awesome ones and terrified ones. “I can take the sofa, you can sleep in my bedroom.”
Although she’d love to see Aidan’s place and she’d give her damn right arm to sleep in his bed – preferably with him there too – she wasn’t about to agree to this. She needed the time alone to get her head together and, far more importantly, she needed the security of two massive bouncers and a room full of dangerous types between her and the big, bad world. Aidan could handle anything that came through his door, she was sure, but she still felt like Curves was the safest option.
Besides, no way I’m putting him in danger. If someone comes looking for me, I don’t want him on their radar. God knows, he’d get himself killed going all hero and trying to do the right thing.
“Oh, no,” Gabi said, stomping down hard on the small part of her that wanted to accept his offer. “Thank you, but no. I have to be here at ten o’clock to start cleaning anyway and I know you’ll still be sleeping then.”
Killer Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 3) Page 1
