by Meghan March
Words spill from Teal’s lips as she drops to her knees, her fingers gripping the fine weave of Dom’s suit pants. “I didn’t tell him anything, I swear. I didn’t. I don’t know anything. I don’t. I was fucked up. I swear whatever I told him was bullshit.”
Dom shakes her off and steps away, his fingers still wrapped around the barrel of the Sig. Before he shifts his grip to where he can pull the trigger, I have the urge to snatch it out of his hand. I’m not like him. I won’t let him execute Teal right here, right now.
And then there’s the reason I thought he was hunting me down. Drew. No, Memphis.
She and I aren’t in the clear yet either. At best, we’ve gotten a mere stay of execution. While Dom’s not looking, I reach behind me and find her cold fingers, giving them a quick squeeze before jamming my hand in my pocket.
I hope like hell she knows to stay quiet and let me do all the talking, because that’s the only way any of the three of us are making it out of this construction site alive. And the only way I’ll ever be able to find out what the fuck she was thinking when she slipped right into my life like she belonged.
Did she belong? Was any of it real? Obviously, now isn’t the time for that conversation, but I’m going to make sure we have it, goddammit. Dom isn’t stealing that from me too.
“Why should I believe a goddamned word out of your mouth, bitch? You’d say anything right now to save your own ass.”
“I swear I don’t know anything worth telling anyone, whether you believe me or not.” Teal’s voice catches on her sobs as her shoulders droop in defeat.
Dom’s dark gaze cuts to me. “And you think she needs help? Like she should get another fucking chance after all this? She uses and abuses my name, costs me a favor, and you think the right answer is getting her some help?”
I hear it clearly in his tone—Dom thinks I’m a pussy, which is fine for now if it saves Teal’s life. I might have been pissed off enough to fire her, but I’m not a fucking murderer.
Dom fits the Sig’s grip into his palm like he’s done thousands of times before and presses the barrel against her forehead. Only, I know better. This whole fucking thing is about proving a point. He won’t use his own piece, not on her and not for wet work. If someone puts a bullet in Teal’s head, it’ll come from Primo’s throwaway, which will be wiped clean before it’s tossed.
“One round is all it’ll take. Sixty-seven cents. That’s it. That’s what your life has come down to.” He jabs the metal harder. “Do you think your life is worth more than sixty-seven cents, girl?”
Teal’s tears tumble faster as she blinks rapidly, probably because she’s afraid to nod her head. I’m surprised she hasn’t fainted.
“She needs to go to rehab,” I say.
Dom’s quick glare would carve me in half if I wasn’t so used to being on the receiving end of his rage. “Rehab costs money. No one gets help for free around here. Especially not ungrateful little bitches who use my name, spill information, and then cost me favors.” Another nudge of the barrel against the bridge of her nose. “So, you tell me, Teal. What the fuck should I do with you? Because you’re not even worth sixty-seven cents to me right now.”
“I’ll pay for her rehab,” I say before I even plan to form the words. It’s like someone plucked them out of thin air and shoved them in my mouth before I could even decide to say them. Because if I’d been thinking, I’d have said that her health insurance from the club is good through the end of the month and should cover the cost.
But I don’t add that detail because Dom jerks around to face me, the pistol still touching Teal. “You’ll pay for it? Why? She ain’t worth it. I can tell you that right now.”
How do you explain the value of human life to a man who has never understood it before? You can’t.
“Let me worry about that.”
Dom’s gaze narrows. “You already got a piece of ass that’s so hot you plan to fuck her in a construction site. What do you need with a whore who’ll spread her legs for anyone? You’re better than that shit.”
I dig down deep, into the cold, dead part of me that’s descended from this man. “You kill her, I’ll have her sister to deal with, and I need good, loyal—quiet—employees. They’re fucking hard to find.”
It’s a practical, emotionless reason. One I know Dom will understand.
His lower lip rises, pressing against the top. “You sure her sister’s really worth the cost of rehab? Because if she makes a fuss, we’ll take care of her too.”
Fucking hell.
Dom would never ask a mobster if he’s sure. It means he thinks I’m weak, and that’s not saving Teal—or Tanya.
It’s a dangerous move, but I know the callous man before me. I know what he respects and what he hates, so I stare him down.
“Did I stutter, Dom? I’ll cover the cost. Now, let’s get back to fucking business. I’ve got shit to do today.”
Better men have been killed for less than what I just said to him, but the corner of his mouth curls up and respect gleams in his eyes. Like he’s finally seeing his likeness in me.
Not a fucking chance.
Then again, you don’t get to choose your DNA.
3
Memphis
“You’re a good man,” I whisper to Cannon as Teal whimpers from the back seat of the Chevelle.
He turns his head to glance at me, and his features are so hard, they may as well have been stamped in flint. Sweat dots his brow, and his neck is flushed an angry crimson.
“Now is not the time you want to be making assumptions about me.” He looks back at the road, slowing to a stop as the light turns red, and the only sound in the car is Teal’s snuffling. It’s the longest red light of my life.
There are a million things I want to say. Starting with . . .
Thank you for not taking the gun and shooting me.
Thank you for not ratting me out to your mob boss dad.
Thank you for protecting this girl I don’t even know, but she’s obviously young and stupid.
But I say none of it. We drive back to the club without another word passing between us.
As soon as we drive into the garage, Tanya is at the passenger door, ripping it open and pushing her head past me to see into the back seat.
“Thank God. Thank God,” she whispers as she reaches out to touch Teal’s rat’s nest of a hairstyle.
As she maneuvers around me, I say, “I’ll . . . um . . . get out and you can—”
Tanya’s blue eyes frost over as they land on mine. “Move.”
“Tanya.” Cannon says her name like a bark as he climbs out and slams the door. “What the fuck happened? You told me you had it taken care of. You told me that you were getting her help. What. The. Fuck?” His voice echoes off the concrete walls, but he doesn’t seem to care who hears.
Tanya squeezes her eyes shut before she removes her head from the Chevelle and steps back so I can exit. As soon as I’m out of the car, I march around to the hood, not wanting to be caught in the cross fire.
“We picked out a place last night,” Tanya says quietly, her fingertips resting on the roof. “They said they had room to take her. She asked me if we could spend this afternoon together and I’d put her on the train tonight. The staff was going to pick her up and get her settled. I really thought she meant it. I swear.” Her attention cuts to the interior as Teal sobs louder.
“I’m sorry, Tanny. I’m so sorry. I only wanted one more night out, just to prove that I didn’t really need help. That I could handle myself.” Teal doesn’t even sound like she believes herself.
Every feature on Tanya’s face freezes into a hard expression I thought she only reserved for me. “You lied to me?” Her question is whispered with such quiet, lethal force, it could slice a woman to shreds.
Tanya bends at the waist and yanks the car seat forward so she can reach into the back and drag her younger sister out by her messy hair. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
“I’m sorr
y!” the other girl wails. “You were right. I need help. I’m sick.”
Tanya shakes her sister by the shoulder, and I inch toward Cannon without even thinking.
“I told you we were getting you help, and then you pull this shit on me, the one person who would literally do anything for you? How? Why?” Like she knows she won’t get an answer that matters, Tanya keeps going. “Do you know how fucking terrified I was when I went to get you, and you were gone and your roommate said that you went out last night to a Legend club? And then when I called in every favor I could to find you today, I found out they delivered you to Dom after you’d been with one of the Rossetti crew last night? What the hell is the matter with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Someone clears his throat from behind us. I shoot a glance over my shoulder to see Warren walking in our direction slowly enough for us to realize he’s there and not feel like he’s not eavesdropping. But from the look on his face, it’s obvious he’s most definitely catching every word we say.
“What place did you pick out, Tanya?” Cannon asks, but his gaze is on Warren and not the head waitress.
“It’s in Albany. Not too fancy, and not too skid row. I’ll take her there right now. I was going to track her ass down and take her there today, whether she wanted to go or not. I swear.” Tanya pleads her case, her fingers trembling as they rake through her hair.
Cannon nods at Warren. “You’re taking them to Albany. Bring Tanya back to the club when it’s done.” He stalks around the car, passing me like I’m not even there, and stops in front of Tanya. “You’re working the late shift tonight. I don’t fucking care that I gave you the day off. You are so goddamned lucky that your sister isn’t in a shallow grave with a bullet in her head. Remember that, and work your fucking ass off to say thank you. No more attitude. No more bullshit.” He leans in closer, but his voice doesn’t get any less threatening when he asks, “Do you fucking get me?”
Tanya couldn’t have possibly nodded faster. Her head was already bobbing before Cannon was finished speaking.
“I get you. I’m sorry. Thank you. Seriously, thank you. I don’t know what I would do—”
He lifts his hand in the air, halting her. “I don’t want to hear it. This conversation is over. I’ll see you tonight.” With that, Cannon strides toward the elevator. “Hurry up, Drew. Time to get to fucking work.”
4
Cannon
I’m a stupid fucking idiot. I wouldn’t be bringing the fox back into the henhouse on purpose if I wasn’t. Then again, if I fired her on the spot, Dom would know something was up, and then I’d actually have the situation on my hands that I only thought I had earlier.
“It’s time to prove yourself. You take care of her, or I will.”
It’s been a long damn time since words could send a cold chill through my blood. Even the words of a man who is more than capable of murder. But the whole time, it wasn’t me I was worried about.
I jab the elevator button as soon as she steps inside, then sneak a sideways glare at her.
When the door closes, I’m tempted to slam the emergency stop button and ask her what the fuck, but I can’t do that either. I know for a fact the elevator is bugged.
I have a million fucking questions for this woman, starting with Do you have a death wish? But I can’t ask her a single one of them until we get out of here tonight.
“I’m sorry,” Memphis whispers from beside me.
Something seizes in my chest as I jerk my chin in her direction. She’s pale beneath the thick layer of makeup on her face. The thick layer that was her disguise as she tried to gather intel, probably to put me in prison with the rest of the Casso crew.
And I fucking fell for it hook, line, and sinker. No, I fucking fell for her. What a goddamned schmuck.
“Don’t say a fucking word about anything until I tell you it’s okay to talk. Understand me?” My words are sharp, no care to them at all.
She flinches, but I won’t apologize as easily as she does. It’s not just Teal’s life I’m saving today. It’s hers too.
As the elevator opens on the floor for the Upper Ten, I step over the threshold and block her exit. Memphis stares at me with genuine fear on her face as she swallows.
“Your mother expects you to take her to dinner tonight. Tell her you’re working, and you’ll take her tomorrow. No one gets the fucking night off today.”
I should want her as far away from the club as possible, but I’m not letting Memphis Lockwood out of my sight until I figure out what kind of voodoo she’s worked on me, and what the fuck I’m going to do about it.
Her mouth forms an o, like she wants to speak, but she nods rather than replying.
I fish her cell phone out of my pocket and toss it to her before I turn and stalk away. The elevator doors close with her inside as I brush past Grice without a word.
5
Memphis
I dodged a bullet. A really, really big one that should have had at least one of my names engraved on the side.
As the elevator doors open once more on the floor for the Upper Ten, shivers rack my body like someone just tap-danced over my grave. Maybe it’s my father’s ghost warning me, trying to protect me from my own recklessness. He always told me to be careful, more careful than I would ever think to be. He was right, and I should have listened.
Then again, look where his need for the truth got him. Like father, like daughter.
Shaking off the chill, I make my way toward the door, which Grice opens with a questioning look on his face.
“Everything okay, Ms. Carson?” His thick New York accent seems even more pronounced today. “Anything you need help with?” He shifts his weight as if anxiously awaiting some very bad news. Like Teal being dead.
Oh Lord. It’s not my place to say a single word, but the look on his face engenders so much empathy that I can’t go on letting him wonder.
“Tanya had to take care of something. Cannon asked her to work the late shift tonight . . . after her sister is settled at her new place.” I whisper the last bit, hoping it will offer him some comfort.
Immediately, his shoulders relax and his entire posture changes. He glances up at the ceiling and makes a quick sign of the cross, like he just touched holy water at church.
When he meets my gaze once more, he smiles softly. “Thank you, Ms. Carson. I’ll be pulling a double today, so I’ll make sure to watch out for her coming back.” He swings the interior door to the club open and lets me walk through.
Cannon is nowhere to be seen, but Letty is running entrées out to a table seated for an early dinner and her brows jump to her hairline when she sees me.
I hurry toward the kitchen, intending to check on what else needs to go out, but Matteo, the club’s cigar sommelier, stops me next to the bar.
“Is Teal okay? We heard . . . things.” Matteo’s normally precisely starched shirt has a few wrinkles, as if he rushed out the door in yesterday’s uniform because he was in such a hurry to get here, and his cheeks are paler than normal.
Apparently, everyone got the emergency call and came running in.
I nod in response, biting my lip, because I’m not sure what else I should say to him. Probably nothing. But that doesn’t stop me from saying, “Tanya will be back with Warren late tonight. I’m sure she’ll be able to give you the whole story.”
The warm hue of his tanned skin returns as he takes a deep breath. “Okay. Got it. That makes sense.”
“Matteo.”
When Cannon shouts the man’s name, Matteo spins around to face our very unhappy-looking boss.
“Yes, Mr. Freeman?”
“You’re not supposed to be here until seven. If you want to stay, fine. But I’ll need you late tonight too. You decide if you want to work all the hours or just some.”
Matteo straightens and lifts his chin. “I’m here for the duration, Mr. Freeman. I’ve already sold several nice sticks this afternoon, and I think it’s going to be a great day fo
r business.”
Cannon’s dark expression doesn’t shift. “Fine. Get to work. Ms. Carson has plenty to do being the only server we have for a while.”
Matteo scurries off, and Cannon stares hard at me for several long seconds before shaking his head and spinning around to return to his office.
The sight of him walking away hits me harder than it should. My eyes sting as I think of everything I’ve fucked up.
I wasn’t supposed to feel things.
I wasn’t supposed to fall for him.
What the hell do I do now?
My father’s rules of investigating didn’t cover what happens when you fall for the target and he finds out you lied to him and now hates your guts.
Before I can dwell on the situation any longer, a hand lands on my shoulder. I jerk away and stare up at Silas Bohannon’s face in shock.
“Sorry, I thought you heard me say your name.”
Gathering myself quickly, I straighten like Matteo did and paste a smile on my face. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Bohannon. I didn’t realize you were still here. What can I get for you? Another drink? Something to eat? A smoking room and Matteo?”
His eyes narrow on me, roving over my face like he recognizes my mask and is trying to see behind it. “A bottle of mineral water, and a Band-Aid for my ego.”
Confused, I pull my head back and stare up at him. “Excuse me, sir?”
“You’re totally blind to every man in the room when he’s around. Dangerous business to have a thing for your boss. Especially when it’s Cannon Freeman.”
“Uh, wh-what?” My dumbfounded tone and stuttering reply probably match my dazed expression.
“Don’t worry about it. Just . . . be careful, Drew. I don’t know how much you know about your boss, but you might want to learn a little more before you go racing down that road.”
We both turn to look in the direction Cannon just disappeared in, but he’s already through the hidden door.
