"I wouldn't dream of it, and it's good to meet you, Kat. I'm an actor and I'm pretty successful in the biz. I could introduce you to some important folks. In fact, there's a party tomorrow night. You should come. All the movers and shakers will be there."
"You do look familiar," she said, softening her voice and pretending to be impressed. "Is it for a birthday or something?"
"It's just a Hollywood get-together. I have a friend who holds them all the time. Come as my guest. No strings, and I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman. I'll even send a limo to pick you up."
"Why should I believe you?"
"I'll tell you what. Forget the limo. Come under your own steam. If you don't see at least ten famous faces in the first ten minutes, or if you don't like what you see, take off."
"Where is this party being held?"
"In a gated community up in the hills. There's a password to get in. Tell it to the guard, then just follow the road to the very last house at the end of the cul-de-sac. It's a glass palace. You can't miss it."
There was going to be a party at the mansion! Would HH be there? Probably, and if Marco went ahead with his plan the timing would be perfect.
"I'll think about it. What's the password?"
"Black snow."
"Black snow? What kind of password is that?"
"The guy who owns the house likes contradictions. So whatta ya say? Are we friends now at least?"
"Don't push your luck."
"Hey, Jason," Marco declared, approaching the table carrying three beers. "I saw you from the bar and bought you a beer. Could you grab one of these?"
"Sure," Jason replied, taking one of the bottles and downing a gulp. "I needed that. Thanks, Marco."
"You bet, and I'm glad you could make it. I see you've met Kat."
"You can vacate that chair any time. Its rightful owner is here now."
"Did I walk in on something?" Marco asked.
"A slight misunderstanding. Didn't mean to step on your toes, Brooder," Jason replied as he rose to his feet. "I thought the lady was alone and I was attempting to make small talk."
"Small being the operative word. Small talk, small mind, probably small everything," Kat quipped, darting her eyes to his crotch.
Marco saw Jason bristle. What the hell was she playing at?
"You might want to teach your girlfriend some manners," Jason muttered, clearly ticked off. "A smart mouth like that could get her in trouble."
"I need to speak to Jason privately for a minute," Marco said, shooting her a stern look. "Don't let the waitress take our beers away. We'll be back in a second."
Marco jerked his head to the side, suggesting Jason should follow him through the swinging doors that led into the hallway. Pushing through them, Marco walked down the hall until they were far enough away that the noise of the crowd was distant enough to allow for a conversation.
"What the hell is wrong with her?" Jason demanded. "Talk about a bitch!"
"She gets hit on all the time. She can't stand it."
"Then she should become a fucking nun. One day she's gonna say the wrong thing to the wrong guy."
"I'm not interested in talking about her. There's something more important we need to discuss."
"Yeah, I do know that," Jason said brusquely, a deep scowl crossing his forehead. "You think I'm here for any other reason? You think I wanna spend any time with that smelly, unkempt crowd?"
Suddenly Marco was seeing the real Jason Dean. The charming, funny, amenable actor, had suddenly transformed into a nasty, sneering, supercilious jerk. Had Kat's rebuff unnerved him that much?
"I can't talk to you in the office," Marco continued. "Some guys are still setting up a table in there for everyone to pay their respects, and after the memorial there's going to be a stream of people coming and going for hours."
"It doesn't matter, I'm taking you up to the mansion," Jason declared. "You've heard about that place I'm sure. We'll leave immediately after the service."
"Yes, I've heard about it, and no, Jason, I'm not going anywhere with you, besides, what I have to tell you will take about three seconds."
Marco watched Jason's eyes narrow into thin slits. Kat had rudely rejected him, and now he'd just thrown Jason another curve ball. Jason was rattled, and in his peripheral vision Marco could see Leo standing near the swinging doors. He had told Leo to stay close, and Leo was doing just that. This was the moment for Marco to set his plan into motion.
"I know about the missing delivery and I have it," Marco proclaimed, "or rather, I had it. I don't anymore."
Though Jason tried to hide it, Marco could see the shock flicker across the actor's face.
"What the fuck? What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly," Marco retorted, "and I'm not interested in playing games, but maybe I've made a mistake. Maybe it's someone else I need to be speaking with. If that's the case I'm going back into the bar."
He started to step away, but Jason grabbed his arm and spun him around.
"You don't know who the fuck you're dealing with," Jason snarled, shoving Marco against the wall. "We're goin' to the mansion, and you're gonna tell me every last detail about that fucking package."
Leo flew through the swinging doors and was at Marco's side in a heartbeat. Twice Jason's size, Leo pulled him off Marco and hurled him to the ground.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," Marco exclaimed, moving to stand next to Leo who was looming over Jason like a grizzly bear. "I'll tell what I know right now, or you can get the hell out of here."
"Tell this fucking Neanderthal to back off. You're talking to the right guy! I'm just following orders. I was told to get you up to the mansion right away."
"Okay, Leo, looks like we're good. You can wait by the doors."
"Sure, Brooder, but you know the memorial service is gonna be startin' in a minute."
"Yeah, I know, and that's about how long this will take, a minute."
With a last warning scowl at Jason, Leo marched away, and Jason slowly rose to his feet.
"Listen to me, Jason. You go back and tell your boss, and I assume that's HH, I'm not going to the mansion, not today, not ever, and as far as his missing delivery goes, I received this letter," Marco said, pulling out a folded piece of paper from his jacket. "Keep it."
As Jason leaned against the wall, still trying to catch his breath, he opened up the letter and began to read. Watching him carefully, Marco could see his face contort in fury.
Hey Marco...and hello HH.
Yeah. I know. You didn't expect this. Either of you.
Marco, in case you didn't know this, the heavy narcotics supplier for the Kings is a guy called HH. Kratos was terrified of him. Now Kratos is dead. No surprise, and you could be next.
As long as you have possession of that heroin you're in danger. When I say they'll cut off your balls and stuff them into your mouth and let you bleed to death, I'm serious, and that would be on a day they're feeling merciful. The only way for you to stay safe is to have an insurance policy, and that's me. Leave the package in the second garbage can just inside the east gate of the Main Street Park tomorrow at noon. I know I could be some lowlife conning you, but sometimes you have to take a risk, and doing what I say is the only way you'll survive this. If you want to stay in the drug business and work with HH, go ahead, but you'll rue the day, and if Kratos didn't tell you that, he should have.
HH, I hope you're sitting down. Prepare yourself.
I know who you are. Who you really are, but you don't have to worry. I'm not going to blow your cover, and I'm not going to tell anyone where your lab is hidden. I won't share what I know about your torture chamber, or your second house in the hills with the girls and the goons, nope, not a word, not about any of it, not as long as Marco and the Kings are left in peace. I'm not a member, I rarely visit the tavern, but I knew Kratos. He was like a brother to me.
If you're reading this it probably means Marco has done what I've suggested and your package is in t
he garbage can. You'll never find me, not in a million years, and your identity and all the shit you're doing will stay undisclosed as long as Marco and the gang are left alone.
"What the fuck...?" Jason breathed. "What the fuck?"
"I found that inside my helmet and I--"
"I don't give a fucking shit where you found it."
Jason was seething, his face was turning purple, and his hands had balled into fists.
"Noon tomorrow? When is that? When was that? What did you do with the goddamned package?"
"What do you think I did?" Marco barked. "I did what any sane man would do. I left it in the garbage can, and that was today."
"You did what?"
"Hey, whether that letter was from a drug dealer pulling a fast one, or someone who wants me out of this mess, I don't give a shit. I don't want to be involved in your racket, and I don't want the Kings dealing smack or coke, or any of that heavy shit. You and your boss have nothing to fear from me. I have no idea who sells your stuff, how it gets here, nothing, zip, nada, and I don't want to. If any of the gang want to keep peddling the powder, fine, but they can do it somewhere else."
"This isn't good. This isn't good. This really isn't good," Jason muttered as he began to pace up and down the hallway. "The team are gonna be crazed."
"Team?"
"What? Never mind," Jason said hastily. "If that package doesn't show up real quick, you're dead, you hear me?"
"I told you, it's in a fucking garbage can, and if the writer of that note knows what he says he does, you'd better think long and hard before you lay a finger on me, or anyone else here."
"Why did you put that smack in the garbage can?" Jason suddenly bellowed. "WHY? You stupid fuck. You stupid, stupid fuck."
"You could go check. Maybe it's still there."
"AAARGGGHH!"
Jason's wail of anger sounded like nothing Marco had ever heard, and for a moment he thought Jason was about to launch into a wild attack, but instead he bolted down the hallway and pushed through the swinging doors. Leaning against the wall and letting out a long breath, Marco said a silent prayer of thanks. Jason had bought the story.
"Hey. Are you all right?" Kat's soft voice caught his attention and he snapped up his head. "Jason just charged out of the tavern. Did it go badly?"
"For him it did. He didn't get what he expected, but the wheels are now in motion."
"So he was racing off to the garbage can?"
"Yep, and Kat, why did you pull that crap with him?"
"I wanted him rattled. I thought it would help you get the better of him. Did it?"
"Hard to say, but maybe, yeah, I think maybe it did. It was reckless though. These guys...you don't mess with them like that."
"He has other things on his mind now. I doubt he'll even remember meeting me."
"We'll talk about it later. I need to call Steve."
"Wait, before you do, I have some great news. There's going to be a party at the mansion tomorrow night, and I have the password to get through the gates."
"How the hell did you manage that?"
"Jason invited me. I guess having a password saves the trouble of making a guest list."
"Kratos would say this is fate," he said, staring at her. "It has to be. You go back in. I'm calling Steve and I'll be right there. Good work, Kat."
"Does that mean the--we'll talk about it later--is off the table?"
"Not a chance, pussycat, and speaking of things on tables, those bottles are still there, right?"
"I didn't touch them."
"Good, while I call Steve make sure you get the one Jason grabbed. I only did that to get his prints. We might be needing them."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Carrying a gym bag, Jason Dean marched up to the second garbage can just inside the park's entrance. Behind his dark aviator sunglasses, he scanned his surroundings. There were boys skateboarding, couples ambling, and mothers and their children throwing bread to the ducks. Everything appeared normal. Pulse racing, he thrust his hands into the covered opening. His fingers searched through the empty cans and bottles, and he suddenly touched plastic, then tape. It was the missing delivery. He thought his heart would leap out of his chest. Slowly and carefully he pulled it out, dropped it into the gym bag, and pulled the zipper closed.
Striding quickly back to the street, he secured the bag on his bike, and climbing on board he started up the powerful engine. As he roared off, he was so elated he didn't notice the drone in the sky, or the man in the car street who had been taking photographs with a telephoto lens, or even the van that pulled out behind him. Now he was consumed with finding whoever had written the letter. It might take a while, but he'd find him...or her. Obviously Kratos had a life outside the Kings, and he'd move heaven and earth to uncover the people to whom Kratos had been connected. As far as Marco and Kat were concerned, accidents happened all the time, and those two were about to find out just how true that was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
With each member of the Kratos Kings stepping forward to wax lyrical about their fearless leader, it was almost sunset by the time the memorial service wound down to a close. Marco then opened the office to a steady stream of people, both bikers and regular folks who had known Kratos outside the club. Subdued, they walked in to sign the book and leave their thoughts, then solemnly stare at the photograph on the wall.
Marco didn't let Kat out of his sight, and while it appeared she thought nothing of the snide comments she'd made to Jason Dean, Marco was concerned. He knew Jason had not taken her rejection and insults well, and if Jason was as vindictive as Marco suspected, he didn't believe Jason would simply let it go. By the time the wake began in earnest, and the beer was flowing and the hamburgers and fries were being speedily sent from the kitchen, Marco and Kat were ready to leave, but sitting at their table she could see he was deep in thought.
"I want to make sure we're not followed," he finally said, leaning across the table and keeping his voice low.
"Why are you worried about that? Look around you. Everyone's getting plastered."
"Kat, whether it's Jason or someone else from the HH cartel, I don't want to take the chance. No-one knows where you live and I'm going to keep it that way."
"But why would anyone care about me? Besides, we'd know if anyone was following us. I don't think this is an issue."
"I'm surprised at you. You're a pro. You should be just as concerned as I am."
"Okay, I surrender. How do we leave and make sure we're not being followed?"
"One of our agents--"
"You mean, one of the wolf men," she giggled.
"What's gotten into you? This is serious," he scolded. "Pay attention."
"Sorry. I'm listening."
"You see the guy over there with the red hair? His name is Frank."
"He's hard to miss."
"I'm going to have him take you across to the diner while I zip home by myself. In about fifteen minutes you two will leave. I know you've got your bike here, and I want you on your bike and Frank on his. When he's sure there's no tail he'll let me know. I'll duck out the back of my house on foot and meet you a couple of streets away in a back alley, then we'll ride up to your house on your bike."
"Marco, that's so complicated."
"I make the rules, remember?"
"How can I forget? You remind me often enough, but are you sure we have to go through all this rigmarole?"
He paused, studying her, his eyes narrowing and his frown deepening
"Just how hard do you want me to spank you tonight?"
Kat couldn't stop her quick intake of breath, nor prevent the red flush from crossing her face.
"That's what I thought!" he murmured, and reading her reaction he knew there'd be no more backtalk, at least, not for a while. "I'm going to have a chat with Frank now, and you're going to the ladies' room. When you come out I'll be gone. He'll approach you, and you'll accept his invitation to go across the street for some coffee. Am I clear?"
/>
"Uh-huh," she managed, fighting the heat in her cheeks and the racing of her pulse.
"You look like a little girl who's just been chastised."
"That's how I feel."
"As you should. When we get back to your place and we've checked in with Steve and Johnny, I'm going to..." he warned, his voice low, but he didn't finish, leaving the unspoken threat to hang in the air.
"You're going to what?"
"You can ponder the answer to that question," he declared, standing up from the table. "I'll see you shortly."
As he started to move through the crowd towards the stocky man with the red hair, she had to sit for a moment to catch her breath. Her butterflies were fluttering and she was slightly breathless. He'd done it again. Made her feel things...crazy things...amazing things. The truth was, she'd been just as concerned as he was, but she'd wanted to feel her toes curl so she'd been purposely flippant. He hadn't disappointed her. With just a look he had turned her knees weak, and his question, just how hard do you want me to spank you tonight? had made her heart thump against her chest. Slowly rising to her feet she walked towards the ladies' room, but as she pushed open the door another thought came to her, and it sent the hot rush through her body all over again; she'd have to tell him what she'd done.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A little while later, when Marco met up with Frank and Kat in the alley, Frank told him he'd initially thought they were being followed, so he'd taken a circuitous route traveling at high speed.
"We lost them a few streets back," Kat remarked. "You were right, Marco."
"I'm not surprised. Thanks, Frank. I appreciate the backup."
"No worries. I'll probably be seeing you again before this thing is over."
"No doubt. Okay, Kat, let's hit the road. I'm driving."
"It was good to meet you, Frank," she said warmly as she climbed off her motorcycle and stepped back so Marco could get on. "I really enjoyed riding with you."
Motorcycle Master: Bad Boy Angel (Alpha Male Master Series Book 1) Page 16
